Kismet
by labyrinthinemelange
Summary: The final story in the "Thrice Blood" trilogy. Even gods cannot escape fate.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: In case any of you were wondering, the epilogue of "Discord" and the first chapter of "Kismet" happen simultaneously, a few months after the wedding. Soundtrack: "Lily's Theme," at the beginning (and the end of "Discord," I suppose). Oh, and once again, I am using mythology as my primary source of canon, at least when it comes to the Asgardians, so that includes certain powers that were not mentioned in the movie that belong to certain characters in the mythology. (Cough, Frigga, cough). On an unrelated note, there may be a one-shot at some point to do with Loki and Darcy's time at law school (or lack thereof, I haven't yet decided). **

**Now, the first chapter of the final story in the trilogy, "Kismet."**

**CHAPT ER ONE**

Frigga's eyes widened slightly and she froze in mid-stitch. She put the needlepoint she was working on down slowly, her gaze fixed on something that Odin couldn't see.

He covered her hand with his gently. She jumped at the contact. She snapped from her reverie instantly, the glaze vanishing from her eyes as she saw her husband in front of her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and picked up her embroidery hoop. She resumed stitching, perhaps with more force than was strictly necessary. "I'm quite fine." Her hand slipped. She pricked herself with the needle and hissed quietly. She rubbed the injured finger against her thumb for a moment until it healed.

She stared at her needlepoint intently, but even though she turned away, Odin saw the tear drip onto her dress. He swallowed, his brow furrowing. "Another vision?"

She nodded wordlessly.

Odin sighed quietly. He pushed aside the embroidery and took her hands in his. She looked up at him sadly. "Prophecies," he said softly, "can be wrong." She forced a small smile, but removed her hands from his. "It has happened before."

"Let us hope that it happens again," she said in a shaky voice. She dabbed at her eyes and cleared her throat. "For if this prophecy came to pass..." She shook her head and returned to her sewing in earnest.

Odin stared at her with concern.

His train of thought was broken by the creak of the Great Hall's door. He looked up just as Jane slipped through the door and closed it behind her, glancing over her shoulder nervously. She didn't see Odin and Frigga sitting at the table.

Odin cleared his throat. "Jane," he said by way of greeting.

She spun around almost comically with an expression like a deer in the headlights. "Evening, Sir!" she stammered hurriedly. Odin blinked in surprise at the woman's strange behavior; she was usually, if not calm, at least collected. She seemed at the moment to be nervous about something—as though she had something to hide. She turned bright pink and cleared her throat. "Have either of you seen Thor?" she asked awkwardly.

"You are the first to return from Midgard today," he replied. "Thor is not yet home, nor are Loki and Darcy." He studied Jane shrewdly as she began gnawing on her thumbnail. "Is something the matter? If it is a matter of urgency, I could speak to Heimdall and request that Thor be returned home early."

"No," Jane burst out, putting her hands up. She realized—two seconds too late—that she was gesturing, _commanding_, the king of Asgard to stop what he was doing with her hands. She clumsily turned the motion into an exaggerated stretch. She winced as she arched her back too far. "I mean…No, I, uh, it's not urgent," she stammered. "I-I just need to see him, sooner rather than later. Soon-ish."

Frigga smiled gently. "When he returns, we'll let him know that you were looking for him."

Jane smiled and curtsied quickly. "Thank you, milady." She bobbed her head to Odin. "Sir." Without another word, she scurried out of the room, flustered.

Odin and Frigga stared after her.

"That was…very strange," Odin finally said. "I don't believe that I have ever heard Lady Jane speak in such a manner."

"Nor I," said Frigga. But there was something strange in her voice as she spoke. Odin looked at her seriously.

"You know something," he said. It wasn't a question.

Frigga smiled—although it looked more like a grimace—and pointedly resumed sewing. "All will be revealed soon," she said cryptically.

Odin dropped the matter as the door to the Great Hall opened once again, more forcefully this time.

Thor entered the room, his face red and his hair disheveled. His eyes danced around the room anxiously for a moment before settling on his parents. "Evening, Father. Mother. Has Jane returned yet?"

Odin nodded.

"Not two minutes ago," said Frigga. "She was looking for you."

"Thank you." He hurried off before either his father or mother could ask a question.

Odin frowned. "What in the name of Yggdrasil is going on?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I do hope they haven't gotten into some sort of trouble on Midgard."

"Odin, if it were anything seriously wrong, I'm sure he would tell you immediately," she pointed out. "Thor has always been very open with everyone. He couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. Do you remember when he and Loki were younger, when they would break something or get into some sort of trouble together? Loki would go about his everyday life without even batting an eyelash—"

"—and Thor would be jumpy and stammer incessantly for an hour or two before his guilty conscience became too much and he came running to tell me what had happened." Odin chuckled. "Yes, I remember." He shook his head. "I suppose you're right. Whatever they've gotten themselves into, it will all come out soon enough."

* * *

><p>"I don't understand. Why are you so worked up about this?"<p>

"Why am I so worked up? You made _fake evidence_ that was the entire basis for sentencing a man to life in prison for a crime there was no proof he had committed."

Loki scowled. "He did it. I could sense it. The man was a vile, sadistic pervert. Life in prison was a mercy on my part. I was originally considering having him acquitted and killing him myself."

"Loki, that's not how criminal justice works," Darcy sighed exasperatedly.

"I beg to differ."

"That's not how it works _on Earth_, in the _United States_," she amended. "You can't just go putting people behind bars for life because you 'know' they committed the crime."

"Can't I?"

"You need to be able to prove it, you know that. That's the whole _point_ of a trial."

"Then why didn't you stop me? Create evidence to contradict mine?" Darcy didn't answer. Loki understood her silence to be a reply. "I _had_ proof. It just wasn't admissible as evidence in a mortal court of law." She gave him a puzzled look. "I did a spell. Read his mind."

"Oh, I see." She grinned. "Without a warrant, I take it?"

"Of course. Unreasonable search and seizure of the contents of his mind. No judge would accept that as evidence. It's completely unconstitutional."

"Not to mention _insane_."

His expression darkened. "Yes, well, sanity is relative." His arm tightened around Darcy's shoulders, very slightly, but enough that she noticed it. She studied Loki's face curiously.

"What's wrong?"

He saw her worried expression and forced a smile. "Nothing, love. Everything's alright."

Darcy broke away from Loki and crossed her arms, standing right in front of him. "No, it's not," she said. "You called me 'love.'"

"Yes, what's your point? I think it's an accurately descriptive form of address."

"You only call me 'love' when you're in the middle of one of your angst-fests, when you're being all serious and protective and stuff." Loki made a face, but didn't bother contradicting her. He looked away, unwilling to make eye contact. "Please tell me you're not stuck on the villain thing again," said Darcy.

"No," Loki said quickly, "it's not that at all." He reluctantly turned to look at her, but had difficulty meeting her eyes. He kept staring at a point on her shoulder. "I was merely musing that, even if the judge were to accept mind reading as evidence, he would still seem like the epitome of sanity compared to the man on trial."

"He must have been one sick puppy."

"You have no idea." Loki licked his lips. "It was horrible being inside that bastard's mind. I felt like I had to bathe just _looking in_ on the things he was thinking, the way he was thinking, the way he looked at you—"

"The _what_?"

Loki caught himself too late. "I mean…" he stammered in a desperate attempt to backtrack.

"You mean this guy was perving out on me in the court room?"

He didn't reply immediately. "In between the thoughts of violence," he said finally, "yes."

Darcy stared at him. "Why didn't you say so?" Loki began to answer, but it was a rhetorical question. Darcy ranted on. "I would've set him on fire from across the courtroom if I had known _that_."

Loki looked at her blankly for a moment, and began to laugh. "Yes, I suppose spontaneous human combustion would be rather hard to pin on you, as far as murders go."

Just as he said this, they reached the entrance to the Great Hall—and immediately ran into Sif, who gave them both a very strange look. They all stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Sif shook her head and walked off down the hallway.

"You two are so _weird_."

Loki and Darcy exchanged a look, both of them wearing very forced 'straight' faces. When Sif's footsteps had finally faded from earshot, Darcy snorted and started laughing. Loki had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from doubling over in laughter himself.

On that bizarre note, they both headed into the Great Hall for supper, where they were surprised to find that Jane and Thor were absent from the table. Darcy was unconcerned; as she pointed out, Jane had been working very hard on the Kazakhstan site, and Thor was always being called away at odd times to prevent the latest earth-shattering catastrophe. Loki, however, remained somewhat preoccupied throughout dinner by the fact that both of them were absent at the same time. His worry was alleviated when they walked in ten minutes later, Thor looking slightly anxious and Jane…well, Jane seemed to be radiating happiness. She seemed almost as if she were glowing.

Something clicked in Loki's head; his eyes widened briefly with comprehension before he turned to Darcy. But before he could say anything to her, Jane was heading towards them. He fell silent.

"Darcy." She looked up at the sound of her name and immediately spotted Jane. She grinned and began to speak loudly, but Jane shushed her quietly. "Keep your voice down," she said in a low voice, taking Darcy's elbow firmly. "Come on, there's something I want to tell you." The two women left the room quietly, without as much as a parting comment to their husbands who were each too occupied to notice them leave.

Neither of them said a word until they had reached a side hallway some distance, well out of earshot of the entrance to the Great Hall.

"What's going on?" asked Darcy. "Is something wrong?"

Jane shook her head fervently. She beamed at Darcy. "Nothing's wrong. Actually, I don't think I've ever felt less wrong in my life."

"Wait…You found proof?" Darcy burst out, her voice rising with excitement. "You found what you need to prove that the Einstein-Rose Bowl thing is real?"

Jane shushed her and shook her head again slightly. "No, no, it has nothing to do with work or science." She cleared her throat. "I actually left work early today, because…well, there was something I had to do." Darcy waited for her to continue. Jane took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes briefly before continuing. "Thor took a day off, too." She laughed. "Nick Fury wasn't happy about that, but there wasn't much he could do." She sobered suddenly, and rolled her lips together compulsively. "We wanted to do it during the daytime, in secret...just in case, you know, it turned out I was wrong or something had…you know."

Darcy blinked at Jane, baffled. "You wanted to do _what_ during the daytime?"

"We went to the doctor," Jane burst out. "I had a hunch, so I went in to get an ultrasound…and I was right." Her smile was so wide Darcy wondered how it didn't hurt her cheeks. "Thor and I are having a baby."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry for Darcy's language, if that offends you. I just think that ditzy-Darcy tends to come out a little more when she gets girly and hangs out with Jane. Also, I couldn't resist a shout-out to one of my favorite movies of all time. (Which incidentally, starred RDJ as Darcy's dad. Whaaaaat?)**

**Also, as I re-watch the movie, I am realizing: Thor's biceps are terrifying. Like, seriously, those things need to be listed separately in the credits, just like Tom Selleck's mustache and Morgan Freeman's voice. **

**CHAPTER TWO **

Darcy stared at Jane for a moment, completely speechless. She narrowed her eyes.

"Are you fucking with me?"

Jane smiled like a cat that ate the canary and shook her head.

Darcy blinked once, twice. And then her lips turned up in a brilliant smile. She started laughing, not her reserved laugh that she usually forced herself to do when she was in public, but her real laugh, the one that started with a snort and ended with her cackling like a hyena. Her dorky laugh, she liked to think of it.

Jane let out a little giggle herself as Darcy threw her arms around her in a tight hug. "That's so awesome!" Darcy squealed. "Oh my god, you're going to be a mommy! And Thor—" She broke away from Jane, her mouth hanging open in horror. "Holy shit, so that's why he looked all constipated when he came into the Great Hall. He's scared to be a dad, isn't he?"

Jane nodded. "A little. I think he's mostly worried that he's going to accidentally crush the kid when he hugs him or something. I wouldn't freak out about it, though. I have a feeling our baby's going to be a little more resilient than most."

"Still squishy and cute, though."

"I hope so. Hopefully Thor will calm down soon…I think he was planning to tell Loki, though, so if he doesn't know about it, don't say anything."

"Oh jeez," Darcy mumbled. "I just hope Loki doesn't start messing with Thor's head over this."

* * *

><p>Loki and Thor ate their respective dinners in silence for a few minutes. Loki finally decided to break the silence, certain that if he remained silent a moment longer he would just burst out laughing at Thor's uncharacteristically thoughtful expression.<p>

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Thor sputtered and choked on the drumstick he was in the middle of eating. He coughed fruitlessly for several seconds. Loki, rolling his eyes, pounded on Thor's back. Eyes streaming, Thor gave a final cough and was once again able to breathe. He gasped audibly for air. He reached instinctively for his goblet and downed the entire glass in one swig.

Swallowing heavily, he turned to look at Loki with wide eyes. "How did you know?" he asked hoarsely.

"Really, brother, you and your wife are the worst liars I have ever seen in my life. Not that that's a bad thing," he said hurriedly, noticing Thor's hand curl slightly at the knuckles. "Not at all. It just means that you're both honest to the point that when you do try to lie, you're…well, you're not very good at it, to say the least."

"No, I understand that. But how did you know she was…" Thor made hands around his stomach.

"Pregnant?" Thor glanced about instinctively to make sure nobody had heard. Loki rolled his eyes. "Thor, nobody can hear me. I cast an anti-eavesdropping spell the moment I saw you and Jane enter the room because it was obvious you two were trying to keep something quiet."

Thor looked only slightly comforted by this reassurance. His brow was still furrowed as he turned to face Loki. "What gave us away?"

"Well, for one thing," Loki said, pushing the potatoes on his plate about with a fork absently, "you were both blushing like mad. But you each had your own set of tells. You were too still: your face, your hands, your footsteps…You were visibly focused on not displaying any anxiety, but that suppression was a display in and of itself." He took a small sip of water and continued. "Jane, on the other hand, was fidgeting, to the point that I wondered for a moment if I hadn't switched her body with a squirrel's and forgotten about it. She was wringing her hands a lot, and they kept passing over her lower abdomen, as though she were physically protecting the secret—obviously, her pregnancy." He smiled crookedly. "If I'm not mistaken, this is the part where women generally begin squealing and asking each other for all the intimate little details about the baby."

"The man with the strange machine seemed to think that it was a boy. I don't know how; I couldn't even tell that it was a baby on the screen."

"Interesting. I would have thought that, since Jane is a goddess now, her muscle density would prevent the machine from getting a clear image."

"It's funny that you say that. The man and his assistant kept asking Jane if she was an athlete, and they kept mentioning something called steroids."

"It must be some new invention of theirs."

"Maybe. Regardless, the man with the machine said that Jane is going to have a baby boy, and that she is about fifteen weeks along."

Loki frowned, noticing that Thor's eyes had suddenly darkened. "You seem less than overjoyed," he said mildly.

"I am…" Thor grumbled quietly in frustration. "No, I am not afraid. That is the wrong word. I am…"

"Terrified?" Loki suggested.

"Anxious," Thor burst out. "I am anxious. About my son, about Jane…" He gestured, words failing to express the extent of what he wanted to say. "Infants are so…tiny. And I'm…"

_A wall of meat?_ "Less tiny," Loki said aloud, censoring himself for charity's sake.

"Huge." Loki noticed distantly, as he always did when Thor's hulking frame was mentioned, that some of his brother's muscles were the size of his own head. He didn't say anything aloud, however. "And I'm strong," Thor continued. "What if I don't know my own strength? What if I accidentally hurt the child, or hug him too hard, or…What if I hurt him?"

Loki pursed his lips. On one hand, he wanted to reassure Thor, but on the other, he didn't want his brother to delude himself that what he was suggesting was entirely out of the question—privately, he thought it was a very valid concern. He decided, at least, not to mention Heracles, tempting as it was, in favor of a more comforting approach. "You'll just have to be careful with him, just like mortals are with their infants. And bear in mind," Loki gestured with his chin at Thor, "he may well take after his father."

Thor stared at him blankly for a moment, then grinned as visions of a mini-Thor danced through his head, doubtless involving cradle railings being bent, rattles being wielded as weapons, and errant snakes being strangled…although what a snake would be doing in a baby's cradle on Asgard was beyond Loki—aside from one of his pranks, of course.

Thor gave a booming chuckle, and slapped Loki on the back affectionately. Loki winced, more out of habit than anything, for his mind was suddenly far away from the Great Hall, far away from his conversation with Thor. He thought of Darcy, and he thought of himself. And then he thought of Laufey and he wondered: what would his child look like?

* * *

><p>Darcy entered her bedroom, beaming, as she schemed up all the different girly things that she and Jane would inevitably end up doing before the baby was born. Jane would need new clothes…and they would have to add on to Jane and Thor's room…and Darcy thought that she really should throw Jane a party to celebrate, if not a baby shower (it wasn't as if she needed to be given baby supplies when Darcy and Loki could just produce them from thin air), then a feast to announce the baby's coming. It was at that moment that she noticed a movement in the corner of the room. She glanced over to the corner, heart pounding.<p>

Loki looked up at her for a brief moment, marking the place with his finger on the page of the huge tome lying open on his desk. "Evening," he said.

She smiled awkwardly, rearranging her face hurriedly to look guileless. Does he know yet? Oh my god, what if he read my mind?

"I already know," he said. His voice was somewhat unfocused as he flipped the page of his book, obviously very wrapped up in whatever it was he was reading. Darcy crossed to him and peered over his shoulder. She caught the first word on the page—Jotun—before Loki abruptly slammed the book shut. He smiled widely at her and placed his hands on her arms cheerfully. "Did you manage to eat something once you and Jane were finished with your chat?"

Darcy narrowed her eyes and lightly pushed Loki's hands off of her. She brushed past him in a beeline towards the book that lay closed on the table, ducking around him as he tried to block it from her with his body.

"Why are you reading about jotun?" she asked suspiciously. "And what are you reading about them?" She began rifling through the pages madly to find the one that she had glimpsed—she remembered it had a diagram in the lower right corner, although she hadn't gotten more than a glance at it before the book had closed.

"Oh, nothing. Just, er, looking for a battle. Thor and I had a little debate over dinner. You know…" He wrinkled his nose slightly. "Warrior stuff."

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "A battle?" Loki nodded. Darcy gave a quiet grunt as she strained to lift the enormous book; she held it up pointedly. "In Beings and Beasts of the Nine Realms: Life Cycles and Autonomy?"

"Anatomy," Loki corrected her without thinking. He froze. Whoops. Darcy set the book down with a thud and crossed her arms. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Er—" he said, for once utterly lost for words.

"Were you looking at porn or something?" she teased him. "I've never seen you this jumpy." She sat down on the edge of the table and began flipping through the pages one by one, swinging her legs like a delighted little child. She stopped briefly on one of the pages with diagrams. "Ooh." She waggled her eyebrows and showed the page to Loki. "Diagram of the female Ljósálfr."

"Will you please be careful with that book?" he said impatiently, averting his eyes emphatically. "It's rather old…"

"Hm. Not naked lady-elves that you were looking at then…"

"Darcy, give me the book."

"Maybe the human woman section—"

"Please put the book down."

"—or human men, I guess—"

Loki lunged forward suddenly to grab the tome from Darcy's hands. She held on stubbornly, wrapping her fingers around the spine as though her life depended on it.

He tugged on his end of the book, scowling deeply. "Put the book down."

"What's so special about the book?" She pulled back, grinning.

"Just give it to me." Tug. Darcy realized suddenly that Loki wasn't joking; her face turned serious.

"No!" Tug.

"Give me the book!" he snapped.

"Why do you want it?"

"WILL YOU JUST PUT THE BOOK DOWN?"

Darcy jumped and dropped the book suddenly, her eyes going wide. Loki froze. He let go of the book mindlessly, his gaze fixed on Darcy's face in horror. She pressed her hands against the wall behind her, leaning against it for support, her lip quivering.

Loki sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry, Darcy. I don't know…"

She stepped forward sharply, ignoring his apologies as she leaned across the table to see the book. Her eyes were icy cold; she didn't even look at her husband as she stormed past him. She opened the book with a slam and made to turn the page when she suddenly froze.

Loki, taking her shock for forgiveness, placed a hand on her shoulder lightly. She swatted it away roughly. His face fell, almost seeming to crumple on itself with heartbreak. Darcy looked away and stared at the book once again, her eyes stinging.

_The jotun species conceives and carries children much in the same manner as other viviparous species do, however the process is significantly slower; the time between intercourse and conception for a jotun can be anywhere from one week to an entire month. The pregnancy itself is also lengthened, with the average jotun incubation lasting two years._ Darcy couldn't read any more. Her eyes glazed over as she scanned the rest of the page, not taking in any more of the information. She felt numb, and cold, as though someone had just thrown her outside into a snowstorm. She didn't react as Loki's fingers hesitantly brushed against hers. Meeting no resistance, he wove his fingers through hers, clasping her hand tightly as though it were tying him to life itself.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. "Why didn't you just tell me that this is what you were looking at?"

"I didn't want you to think…" He trailed off. He licked his lips and tried again. "I didn't want you to take it the wrong way and feel pressured…" He gritted his teeth and sighed heavily. "I didn't want to frighten you." He smiled wanly. "After all, what woman wants to carry and give birth to a child of a different species? Who wants their child to be half a monster?"

He felt lips pressing against his cheek. He opened his eyes to find Darcy looking at him seriously, her arms winding around his neck.

"I wouldn't care if my child was half a monster or a whole monster. Just as long as he has his father's eyes."

They kissed each other without hurry. They both felt heavy, as though they were suddenly moving in slow motion, trying to kiss each other through molasses. Pulling away from her, Loki rested his forehead on the top of Darcy's head lazily.

"What if he had blue eyes?" he pointed out softly.

"Oh, I'd disown him."

Loki smirked at his wife's logic. "Naturally."

Darcy smoothed Loki's hair back with a sigh. "I would tell you 'no more secrets,' but that would be a bit like telling Thor 'no more biceps.'"

"That it would, in addition to my unfortunate tendency to weasel my way out of direct instructions. And I weren't allowed to keep secrets from you, I'd never be able to give you another surprise."

"Well, you could, but it wouldn't be much of a surprise. I would know what you were going to do before you did it."

"It would be ridiculous. Here, watch…"He suddenly smoothed his face into something resembling suspicion and glanced over his shoulders exaggeratedly. He cleared his throat. "Don't tell anyone," he hissed, "but I'm planning to sneak up on my wife and kiss her in a couple of seconds."

"Loki—"

"Shh! She'll hear you!"

"Loki—"

"Here she is!" Darcy giggled as Loki kissed her with exaggerated passion, picking her up to literally sweep her off her feet. Darcy was red when they finally broke apart, more from embarrassment than from being turned on her head.

"You're such a lunatic."

"I know. But lunacy is just so terribly fun. I think everyone ought to try it once in a while."

"No thanks. You're crazy enough for two."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I regret to announce that updates on this story will not be as quick-fire as they have been previously. Life is starting to get a bit hectic between school, friends, family (good lord, **_**family**_**) so I won't be able to write for pleasure quite as often. But don't lose faith; I will finish this story to its conclusion. I cannot promise that I won't have to take a short hiatus at some point (December is not looking good, heads up) or that I will post more than once a week (not likely), but I will try my best to get this story done as quickly and with as much quality as I can.**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Stark crossed his arms as he surveyed the newly-formed crater in the middle of the street. He wrinkled his nose and flicked something off of his mask with disinterest; it left a smear of scarlet across his face.

"Well," he said, wiping his hand off on Rogers' sleeve—the latter jerked away in disgust, but his reaction went un-noticed by Stark. "I, for one, could use a hamburger. Would either of you gentlemen care to join me?"

"You just watched a man get blown up. You're covered in what's left of his body. And all you can think about is a hamburger?"

He shrugged. "Why not? It's not as if _I _blew him up. He made the bomb himself. The fact that it blew up prematurely is his own fault."

"What is a _hamburger_?"

"Irrelevant, gentlemen." The trio turned as Nick Fury strode forward from a black vehicle that had just pulled up behind them. "There are some things that need to be done before you can go home for the night." He pulled a manila folder from his jacket.

Stark groaned and yanked his helmet off irritably. "Is all this paperwork really necessary?" he grumbled, rubbing a hand across his face. "Wouldn't it be simpler to just write 'blown into a million tiny pieces' and be done with it?"

"It would. However, it seems that villains have an unfortunate tendency to not stay dead very long." He thrust a packet of papers into Stark's hands with a grim look. "I want every interaction, weakness, and detail on this guy, down to the last birth mark. So if he ends up not being dead, or comes back somehow—"

"—we'll know what we're dealing with," finished Rogers.

Fury nodded. "Exactly." He handed him a packet as well. He hesitated when he came to Thor. "Thor, are you able to read and write English fluently?"

"Of course."

"Good." Thor winced as Fury tossed him a packet identical to the other two. He gave the three heroes a stern look. "I will be generous this time. You may go home now, but I expect the paperwork back in two days. Enjoy your evening." He turned to get back into his car.

"Sir," Thor said.

Fury stopped. "What is it, Thor?"

He clasped his hands behind his back awkwardly. "I wish to extend an invitation to all of you." He cleared his throat. "There is going to be a great feast in Asgard three nights from now, a surprise celebration for my wife, Jane Foster."

Stark raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"What's the occasion?" asked Rogers.

Thor laughed uncomfortably. "Um, well, it's rather new, and we have not told everyone on Asgard yet, but…Jane is expecting a baby."

Stark groaned. "Oh, good Lord."

Rogers, on the other hand beamed. "That's great news." He shook Thor's hand firmly. "Congratulations."

Thor smiled. "Thank you, Rogers." He glanced at the three men slightly tentatively. "Er, the feast is, as I mentioned earlier, a _surprise_ celebration, so if you happen to come across Jane—"

"Understood," Fury said, nodding. "Ms. Foster will remain out of the loop on this one." He crossed his arms and began pacing. "Who else from Earth has been invited? I know that Foster's parents have both passed away, and she was an only child, but are there any other friends that we need to be aware of?"

"Son of Coul declined our invitation, but one of Jane's colleagues will be attending: Erik Selvig."

"And he is the only one who will be going from Earth to Asgard, aside from us four?"

"Yes."

Fury uncrossed his arms. "Good. As it is, I'll have to explain the situation to the Research Department, so they don't go investigating any wormholes of our creation, but if I know the number of wormholes we will be creating, at least they can keep track of them and investigate any bridges that form outside the prescribed times and places. On that note, I gratefully accept your invitation. I will be very curious to see what your planet looks like, and meet other Aesir." He turned to the others. "Mr. Rogers? Mr. Stark?"

"I would love to go."

"I have plans."

Rogers and Fury turned to stare at Stark.

"You have plans that trump travelling to another planet?" Rogers said slowly.

"Yes, actually. I have a private dinner with the ex-CEO of Stark Industries."

"The ex-CEO?" Rogers widened his eyes. "You're joking. You're choosing a _hot date_ over visiting another planet?"

"Well, we can't all abandon our girlfriends, Captain _Rain Check_."

Rogers waved his finger at Stark angrily. "Hey, I had no choice, okay? I was saving the world."

"Oh, is that what you call it?"

Thor cut Rogers off before he could retort. "Friends," he said, laughing quietly, "there is no need to fight. If Tony has other plans, it's alright. I understand. However, if you wanted to bring Lady Pepper with you, she would be more than welcome to join us."

"Mr. Stark, I suggest you take him up on his offer," Fury said seriously. "This is not an ordinary party invitation; it is also an opportunity at diplomacy. Thor's father is, for all intents and purposes, a foreign dignitary."

"Not to mention the fact that the feasts of Asgard are _legend_."

"Really?" Thor turned to Rogers curiously. "You mean to say, they are legendary _on Earth_?"

"Captain America is correct, Thor. The Vikings actually conceived of your family's feasts and parties as heaven."

Thor laughed. "I don't blame them," he said. "The stories that I could tell of our feasts—"

"Oh, alright, if you all _insist_, I'll go."

"Excellent. I'll tell Darcy and the cooks to expect one more."

* * *

><p>"A little higher…no, no, that's too high…ugh, <em>no<em>, now it's tilting to the left."

Loki suppressed a grin as he watched Darcy frantically running her hands through her hair as she shouted across the room to Volstagg, who seemed _mysteriously_ incapable of getting the banner to drape properly over the head table. Loki debated briefly whether or not he should take his little joke further, perhaps with a well-placed alteration of the banner's lettering. He had just about decided what he wanted the banner to read when Darcy spotted him lurking in the corner.

"Loki," she called, "I think the archway's surface is too rough, and I don't know what spell to use. Can you help me put the banner up?"

He immediately cleared his throat and changed his facial expression so as not to rouse any suspicion. "Of course," he said. He and Darcy stood still for a moment, staring at each other, waiting for the other to move. She narrowed her eyes.

"_Will_ you help me put the banner up?"

Loki smiled. "Ah, another question entirely." He waved his hand and the banner promptly righted itself. "Is that how you wanted it?"

Darcy peered at it closely. She rolled her eyes. "Loki, put the letters back."

"What letters?"

"The ones that spell 'congrapulations.'" Darcy frowned. "Is that even a word?"

"It should be. I suggest a noun, perhaps a name for a stew."

"Nah. Seems more like an interjection. You know, the sort of thing you say when your husband is being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, am I?"

"Very."

"Well, that's not the sort of title I want. Is all hope lost, or is there something I might do to change your opinion of me?"

Darcy pretended to study him for a minute. "I think 'helpful' would be doable. _If _you actually help me instead of turning all the guests into newts."

"I have not turned anyone into a newt," Loki protested. Darcy shot him a skeptical look. He rolled his eyes. "_This_ century."

"Case closed." She produced several parcels from mid-air and handed them to Loki. "You can start being helpful by handing these to the guests as they come in."

Loki turned one of the parcels in his hand. He studied it with a raised eyebrow. "And what exactly are they?"

"Party favors."

Loki blinked at Darcy a couple of times before bundling all the packages into his arms and heading across the hall towards the door. He sniffed the air slightly; perhaps he was mistaken, but he could swear that the packages had traces of magic upon them.

**AN: Apologies for the fluff. Action is coming soon, and once it hits, it will be pretty much non-stop plot movement all the time.**

**Also, if you want to see more of my writing in more of a free-form, bits-and-pieces format, check out my blog at "labyrinthine melange" on tumblr. (Link on profile page.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: A warning, the next few chapters will go even slower than anticipated, because there have been some…er…technical difficulties, you might say. I'll do my best, but unfortunately this little "technical difficulty" is making it very difficult for me to type at anywhere close to my normal speed. So please, bear with me. **

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Loki's mind began to wander as he handed the favors to each guest that came through the door. It was rather mindless work, and it was early enough that nobody of consequence had arrived, apparently choosing to turn up 'fashionably late.' He was just starting to elaborate on a few scheme beginnings that had been churning in his mind as of late when his eyes settled upon a pair of figures that he was quite certain had not been there two seconds previously, one of them with long, dark tresses that clashed with her pale skin, the other with flaming red hair the color of a tangerine.

_Damn. _He kept his thoughts to himself, however, and continued to smile perfunctorily at the guests that walked past. It was almost a minute before the small crowd allowed the couple to come forward. When they came to the door, they seemed immersed in unusually pleasant conversation, and took their favors from Loki without comment.

He caught Oberon by the shoulder sharply. The red-haired man turned to him with a startled expression that, turned upon anyone else, would have been thoroughly convincing. But Loki knew better than that.

"Is there a problem, Son of Odin?"

Loki's eyes were like chips of ice as he glared sternly at the couple. "No gifts."

"What do you mean?" Oberon's eyes glimmered, the only betrayal of trickery on his otherwise sincere face. "These you have just given us yourself. Would you take away what has already been given?"

"You know perfectly well to which gifts I refer, Oberon," Loki replied evenly.

Titania let out a low, whispery sigh as she turned to Loki. They stared at each other for a moment, two sets of grey-green eyes dueling for dominance. Loki finally looked away, unwilling to continue her childish contest any longer. Titania pouted. Loki could only assume the look was intended to be alluring, for he thought the effect was actually fairly ridiculous, exaggerating her already full lips to the point of looking clownish.

"Come now, Loki," she crooned. "You would not deny us the joy of bestowing gifts upon an infant and the lovely mother-to-be."

"No gifts." He spoke through gritted teeth, enunciating each word as though speaking to someone unusually dim-witted or hard of hearing.

Titania's face immediately hardened, her lip curling in a sneer. "Fine," she snarled. "But know this: if I should have any descendants born, I shall bestow gifts upon them, and there is _nothing _you can do to stop me."

With a parting glower, Oberon took his wife by the arm and they entered the hall with storms in their stride. Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes with great difficulty. For all their grandiose posturing and speech, he found the fairies incredibly juvenile and decided that if he were ever forced to spend more than an hour at a time with any one of them he might very well attempt to kill himself, or at least gouge out his ears so he didn't have to listen to their nonsense.

Or, he supposed, he could just off one of them, although it was incredibly difficult to kill one of the fey. On that note, he began to list in his head all the different ways that one might kill a fairy—hypothetically, of course. He quickly discovered that the list was shorter than he had expected. As the guests strolling past him began to grow in importance, each more lavishly dressed than the next, his methods became increasingly bizarre to the point of being out of the question. They were, at least, fun to think of, even if he would never try any of them in a million years.

_I could cover them with treacle and induce a flock of gryphons to eat them alive…no, actually, harpies. More vicious. Hold on—harpies don't eat people. They just steal their food and eat it…_

_I could cover them with treacle and induce a flock of vicious, starving, _angry_ harpies to eat them. That's more like it._

He smiled slightly. If he was really going to kill the fairy king and queen, there were far simpler ways to do it than with harpies, especially since nobody had seen a harpy in centuries and they were believed to be extinct. Then again…harpies did sound like more fun.

_I could cover them with treacle and induce a flock of vicious, starving, angry _clone _harpies to eat them._

"Son."

Loki was jarred from his plotting by Odin's voice. He promptly erased the smile from his face and cleared his throat. "Father," he replied stiffly, handing him one of the parcels.

Odin took the gift slowly, his eye never leaving Loki's face. He narrowed it suspiciously. "You were smiling," Odin observed.

"Was I?" Loki replied mildly.

Odin's face turned somber. "No tricks tonight, Loki," he whispered seriously. "I fear your mother is not feeling well, and you know how your mischief upsets her."

"Mother is ill?"

Odin's expression did not change. "I did not say that she is ill," he said carefully. "I said she is not feeling well."

"But that's the same…" Loki's blood turned cold. "…thing." He stared at the All-Father with eyes like saucers, his heart pounding unevenly. All thoughts of harpies and treacle fled from his mind as he became occupied by more important matters. "No," he said hollowly.

Odin did not reply. He merely turned on his heel and proceeded into the Great Hall, nodding politely to the subjects who bowed as he passed.

Loki swallowed hard. He stood completely still for a moment, his mind reeling. He finally regained his senses and flagged down a passing warrior.

"Distribute these to the guests as they enter," he said before the man could protest. "My most sincere apologies…" He distantly heard the man mumble a reply laced with obscenities under his breath, but he did not turn around as he fled the room.

Darcy stared after him curiously: she watched his green cape billow behind him and wondered what had him in such a hurry.

When Loki came to Frigga's room, he found the door slightly ajar. He pushed it open all the way with the barest touch of a hand; the hinges groaned in protest as the door swung around to reveal the entirety of the room. Frigga did not respond at the sound of the doorway. She seemed to be frozen where she sat on the edge of a chaise, her eyes glassy as she stared intently at the window.

He cleared his throat quietly.

Frigga turned her head slowly to look at Loki in such a way that he expected her face to be serene. He was taken aback, then, when he saw her with red eyes and pale cheeks, tear tracks still clinging to her face. He did not get more than a brief look at her before she returned her gaze to the skyline out her window. Loki peered over her shoulder as though hoping he could glimpse whatever it was that she had seen. He saw only the spires of buildings glinting in the sunset.

"Mother…" he began quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened at the touch, her eyes hardening as though angry. He removed the hand immediately and cleared his throat once more. He needed to start over.

"Mother," he said, sitting down beside her gently, "the All-Father has said that you do not wish to join us for the feast."

Her voice shook slightly, but maintained its usual dignity. "That is correct."

"You do not seem to be ill."

"I am sick at heart."

"Is it another vision?"

Frigga's silence spoke for her.

"Mother, forgive me…but would it not do you good to be in the company of others, to draw your mind from whatever plagues you?"

"I cannot!" She rose to her feet abruptly. Her voice broke in mid-syllable and she began to weep openly. "I cannot go through it again," she whispered. "I have already seen it once."

"You have already seen the feast?" Loki's voice rose with alarm. "You mean to say that your vision, your prophecy, concerns this feast?"

For the second time, Frigga did not answer.

Loki stood up beside her, placing his hands on her shoulders to face her. "Mother, tell me…what is it? Who does it concern?"

"I c-cannot tell you."

"Is it the baby?"

Frigga began to reply, but then seemed to choke upon her words. The sounds died in her throat before she could speak, her mouth refused to form the shapes of words. But her silence was answer enough for Loki. He backed away from her and started for the door.

"The feast has not yet begun…there is still time, I-I can fix whatever this is…"

"You cannot. There is nothing to be done. It is too late."

"I must try. I must warn Darcy to put an end to the feast."

Loki swept from the room without another word. Frigga sank back onto the chaise, her face crumpling, and started to sob in earnest.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Darcy scanned the hall with a satisfied sigh. All of her frantic work had paid off: apart from Frigga's absence, the feast had begun without a hitch. Even Tony Stark—much to her surprise—was impressed; she hadn't heard him make a single snarky aside since he entered the palace.

_Almost without a hitch_, she mentally amended, frowning. She could see clear across the Hall from where she sat, and glanced at the tops of the nearly one-hundred heads, but did not see the familiar, shiny black of Loki's hair. As the kitchen staff brought in the roasts, she considered leaving the party to check Loki's usual haunts; perhaps he was working on some new act of mischief and the festivities had slipped his mind.

But then she felt warm breath on her ear and a hand around her upper arm, steering her out of the Hall.

"Darcy," hissed a familiar voice.

"Loki," she said, turning around to glare at him. "Where have you—" She suddenly took in his appearance, wide-eyed and even paler than usual. "Been," she finished lamely. "What's going on? You look like you're going to be sick."

"No time to explain," he muttered. "You need to stop this party."

"_What?_"

"Now," he added sharply.

"Are you insane?" she whispered shrilly. "I just got everyone settled which, I will have you know, is not an easy feat when you're setting up a formal feast for almost a hundred people. And the kitchen staff just brought out dinner! How the hell am I going to explain to Volstagg—"

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"Understand what?"

"It's very complicated, but suffice it to say, it's of slightly more significance than a few pork chops."

"Is this a joke?"

"No—"

"Is this why you vanished earlier? To plan this as some sort of practical joke?"

"I only wish I were joking. Darcy," he snapped, "you must send everyone home. Now."

"No!" She laughed humorlessly. "I can't just tell ninety-seven people to get up and leave. What about the gifts? What about the feast? What about Jane?" Loki began to reply, but Darcy interrupted. "Can't you just tell me what's going on? What are you worried is going to happen?"

"I don't know!" He pursed his lips and caught himself before he could continue yelling. A few nearby guests glanced at him reproachfully. "I don't know," he repeated in a low voice. "But something is going to happen. Something horrible. I'm asking you to send the guests home, right now, for their own safety."

"But what about Stark and Rogers?" she protested weakly. "And Erik? He was really looking forward to meeting everyone again…And Mr. Fury is going to be furious."

Loki raised an eyebrow as if to say _thank you, Captain Obvious_. "You don't say."

"I do say!" She twirled her hair absently. "He's, like, a super-crazy-important government official. I can't just tell him to leave."

"It's for his own safety."

"But…"

"Darcy."

She looked at him reluctantly and met his eyes. They bored into hers hypnotically, stormy pools of green that seemed to burn with intensity. "I promise you, I will explain it as soon as I am able," he murmured. "Please trust me. Just for a few moments."

She stared at him a moment longer, then sighed. "Alright. I'll tell everyone that the party is over." She smiled slightly. "But you've got some 'splaining to do."

"All in good time."

She took his hand firmly. "Come on." They rounded the corner together and re-entered the Great Hall. Darcy opened her mouth to begin making the announcement—but she was cut off mid-breath by a clap of thunder. A couple of the guests shrieked as the lights flickered and a fork of lightning danced across the ceiling.

Darcy looked at Thor questioningly and was met with a blank stare. He shrugged at her and rose to his feet, squinting at the ceiling as though hoping to see the source of the lightning.

"If it's not him," Darcy asked Loki under her breath, "who is it?" He didn't reply. She turned to look at him. "Loki?"

His eyes darted about the room in a panic. "We're too late," he breathed.

"Too late for what?"

Before Loki could answer, another bolt of lightning raced through the room, this one close enough to make Darcy's skin tingle and her hair stand on end. She flinched and grabbed instinctively for Loki's arm as a corresponding crack of thunder shook the air. She peered over his shoulder as the door of the Great Hall opened with a groan like a wounded beast.

Standing in the doorway were three women, old and grizzled with graying hair and harsh silhouettes that cast long shadows across the Hall, their eyes blazing with an ancient fire that the sudden downpour outside could not douse. Nobody in the Hall moved a muscle as the women stepped forth, every barefoot step audible in the silent room. When they had crossed the threshold, the women stopped. For nearly a minute, they stood as still as statues, and the whole room waited with baited breath for the women to make their next move.

The three women opened their mouths in unison, and began to speak.

"_Out of Odin's blood_

_The Catalyst is born_

_The son of Odin's son_

_Shall make the whole world mourn_

_The end of days is looming_

_Apocalypse draws nigh_

_An evil now is stirring_

_It breathes a waking sigh_

_The world shall lie in ruins_

_And smolder in the night_

_The son of Odin's eldest son_

_Shall extinguish every light_

_The streets will run with scarlet_

_And the thrum of hearts shall cease_

_Man will no longer rule the earth_

_And be consumed by beasts_

_The only means to cease this,_

_On which choice it doth depend,_

_Is to slay the son of Odin's son_

_To make him meet his end."_

**AN: I believe the phrase is "oh crap." (See TV Tropes)**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

The three women vanished without another word.

The instant they disappeared, the Great Hall began ringing with the sounds of women screaming, children crying, and men arguing with each other in raised voices. The only oasis of silence was the head table, where everyone simply turned to stare at Thor with a mixture of horror and pity.

After a moment of listening to chaos reign inside the hall, Odin stood up and bellowed over the cacophony.

"SILENCE!"

A hush promptly fell over the room. Every face in the hall turned to look at Odin.

"Thank you," he said wearily. He glanced along the length of the head table thoughtfully, eyeing each person seated there to gauge their reaction. "Thor…you will meet with me privately once everyone else has gone," he muttered. He turned to the room at large. "The rest of you, please leave the building as calmly as you can, and we apologize for the trouble caused by these unforeseen circumstances. Thank you."

The crowds remained motionless for a second as they processed what they had heard. Slowly, patches of murmuring broke out amongst the people. The silence eroded, and the people began standing up and streaming towards the door.

Odin clapped Thor on the shoulder gently and made his way towards the private exit. Before they could reach the door, they found someone standing in their path.

"As Thor's commanding officer on Earth, I respectfully request to be a part of this meeting." He peered over Odin's shoulder. "I imagine Thor's colleagues would also be interested in joining us."

Odin nodded. "Yes, very well. Right this way." He gestured to the other men.

"What about Jane?" asked Thor. He looked past Odin to stare worriedly at his wife, who was wringing her hands agitatedly and shaking her head furiously at Darcy.

"She is distraught at the moment. I think it would be best to let her compose herself before she joins us."

The other four men left the room, but Thor stood by the door a moment longer to gaze at Jane. He felt his stomach ache and knot as Jane began to cry silently, but it was not out of mere desire to comfort her; he had the strangest sense that it might be a very long time before he saw her again.

"What should be done?" Stark asked, for once without a hint of sarcasm.

* * *

><p>Thor turned to gape at him. "What do you mean, 'what should be done?'" he demanded. "What is there to do?" Nobody answered. He glared at his father expectantly. "Father: what is there to do?" he repeated harshly.<p>

Odin sighed quietly. "There is _one_ course of action that could be taken, to ensure that this prophecy does not come to pass."

Thor stared at him blankly. "I don't understand."

"Thor…" Nick Fury stepped forward solemnly, his hands clasped behind his back. "If the prophecy is correct, your son will cause the end of the world. The destruction of humanity."

"And how are we to stop it? The prophecy said—"

"Terminate the pregnancy."

Fury glared at Stark.

"What?" he said defensively.

"Is he always so…_tactful_?" Odin asked.

Fury began to reply, but Rogers interrupted.

"Hold on," he said, "you're suggesting that Jane should kill her baby?"

Stark rolled his eyes. "I did not say we should _kill her baby_. I said we should terminate her pregnancy."

"But that's the same thing."

"Look," Stark said, "Captain Anachronism, maybe in your time they were more uptight about these things. But we've progressed in the last seventy years. Women have this new thing called _choice_."

"Some choice, if Jane isn't even here to defend herself, and the child cannot make himself heard," Rogers scoffed. "No wonder people of this time are so cynical, if killing innocent children who cannot even speak up for their own rights is what constitutes 'progress.'"

"It is not a child. It's a fetus."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"And I suppose—"

"Gentlemen, we have more important things to discuss than the definition of life." Fury looked at Thor seriously. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"I…I don't know what to think." He shook his head slowly. "I expect Jane is just as confused as I am."

"Thor, you cannot really be thinking about killing your own son?"

"Rogers," snapped Stark, "I've told you already: it's _not _his son yet. It's a blob of tissue."

"But say it _is_ a child…"

"Then there is still a decision to be made," Odin said. "Thor and Jane must weigh the life of their son against the fate of humanity."

"Is it certain, then?" asked Fury. "The prophecy _will_ come to pass?"

"It is…probable."

"It's settled then."

Rogers and Stark turned to stare at him in unison.

"What's settled?"

"Jane Foster must terminate her pregnancy for the greater good of humanity."

"But the child hasn't done anything yet! You cannot punish a man for something he hasn't done yet!"

"Rogers, this isn't punishment. This is prevention." He looked at Thor seriously. "My duty is to protect Earth, and defend humankind from anything that threatens its existence."

"Funny," Stark said in a tone that suggested he didn't find anything about the situation the least bit funny. "I didn't realize _you_ were the mother of Thor's baby."

"Mister Stark…"

"This isn't your decision to make," Stark snapped. "I agree with it, but it isn't my choice. If this is what _Jane_ wants, fine, go for it. But it's her body, and she can do what she likes with it. You have no right—"

"I have every right, Mister Stark. My duty is to defend the human race from destruction. This child is going to cause its destruction. Therefore it is my duty to eliminate the threat, whatever form it may take." He strode towards the doorway, only to find his path blocked by three very angry men. "Gentlemen, stand aside."

"Sir, I respectfully refuse," said Rogers.

"Absolutely not," Thor said.

Stark crossed his arms. "If you think _I'm_ going to move just because some man in uniform tells me to so, I want some of what you're smoking."

"Gentlemen, I am not the enemy here. I am trying to save seven billion lives. Now move."

"He's right," Thor said abruptly. "We should move."

"What?"

"Get out of the way," he said. His voice came out sounding very different than it usually did, but none of the others could identify what it was that had changed. Then Stark's eyes lit up.

"Yes, we should definitely get out of the way."

"But—ow!" Rogers flinched as Stark elbowed him in the ribs, more from surprise than pain. He caught the significant look the other two shot at him, though, and stepped aside. "Uh, yeah. Let's…give up. Go right ahead, Mister Fury."

Their exchange did not go un-noticed. Fury glared at them suspiciously as he left.

"I don't have time to ask you what that was all about. But believe me, I will want answers when I return." With that, he strode from the room.

The instant he left, Odin stroked his beard thoughtfully, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. "Why do I have the distinct impression that this wasn't your doing?"

Thor blinked rapidly and shook his head. "Loki," he said thickly, his voice returning to its usual timbre.

Before the others could ask questions, they heard a furious bellow from the other room. Fury stormed back into the room and grabbed Thor by the collar. "Where are they? Where did they go?"

"Where did who go?" he asked innocently.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Before anyone goes flaming one way or the other in the review section, my political views towards abortion for this story are irrelevant. I merely brought it up because I thought it would be good to have Stark and Rogers, despite their <em>huge <em>differences in philosophy and personality, come to the same conclusion about something for different reasons. Also, the different views just seemed to sync up nicely with their personalities. So PLEEEEASE don't make the reviews a place for arguing about that. Thank you!**

**Anyway, nothing like Loki pulling a Von Trapp to mix things up. **


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Sorry for the brevity of this chapter, but I find that I'm more motivated to write when I post more frequently, even if that means smaller chunks of writing each time.**

**On an unrelated note, if any of you live in or are familiar with Scotland, Britain, or Ireland, I'd love to pm you to find out more about the terrain-since, in my head, Vanaheim looks a lot like the sort of rocky-marshy-misty area that the Scottish Play is usually set in. **

**Reviews are love!  
><strong>

**CHAPTER**** SEVEN**

Darcy gasped for breath and opened her eyes as the world around her rematerialized and began to solidify into a rocky hill overlooking a vast plain of wild grass. She shivered as a gust of cold wind whipped her dress around her legs.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Vanaheim," Loki replied, smoothing his armor as he closed the shimmering portal behind him. "Home of the Vanir."

Jane joined the others on the edge of the cliff; she tightened her cloak with a small shudder. "Who are the Vanir?"

"They are the other race of gods," answered Loki. "More importantly, they are on good terms with the Aesir."

"Which means we should probably stay away from them for now…in case Odin decides to co-operate with Fury?"

"That was my thinking, yes." He squinted up at the sky. "The sun is setting. And it seems as though it might rain. We should find shelter."

Jane glanced along the length of the cliffs in either direction. "We can probably find a cave somewhere nearby. The terrain's rocky enough."

Darcy yanked the hems of her sleeves down so that only her fingertips poked out, but she was still cold. She suppressed another shiver. "How are we going to stay warm?" she pointed out. "I don't see any trees, and there's no way the two of us can magically keep a fire going for days on end."

"The same way people have stayed warm for centuries in terrain like this."

She raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

Loki smiled grimly. "Peat." He hoisted a burlap sack that Darcy had not noticed moments prior over his shoulder. "Come on. We should depart now if we are to find a cave and collect some peat before nightfall."

Jane grimaced. "Oh goody."

Darcy stared at the two of them blankly. "What's peat?"

* * *

><p><em>Oh. <em>That's _peat._

Darcy gagged weakly. "You might have mentioned the _smell_," she grumbled, wrapping her arms around her knees for warmth. "I would've gone looking for firewood if I'd known it would be this bad."

"It would have been a vain attempt," Loki said. "Hardly anything grows in this part of Vanaheim except moss and wild grass."

"So there's no danger of vicious cave-bears?"

Loki smiled faintly. "I could summon one if you ever felt the impulse to wrestle."

"Nah. I'd just wrestle you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, is that what you call it?"

Darcy elbowed him in the ribs. "Dude!" she protested with a grin, nodding her chin to the entrance of the cave. Loki followed her line of sight, his expression darkening.

Jane had not moved from the mouth of the cave since nightfall, standing silhouetted against the downpour outside for hours and staring at the sky as though she expected a rainbow bridge to burst forth from the clouds and return Thor to her.

Darcy sighed and stood up to join her friend in the doorway. Loki immediately busied himself with rearranging the fire.

Darcy studied Jane's face, half in the blue-gray shadow of the night, half illuminated with shuddering orange flames. "Hey," she said seriously, "are you okay?"

"No," Jane admitted. "I'm worried about Thor."

"Oh." Darcy tried to smile comfortingly, but found that her cheek muscles were strangely resistant to the action. "He's a big guy, Jane. I think it would take more than a couple of SHIELD agents to take him down."

"I hope so." Jane turned her eyes to the cloudy sky once again, squinting against the fervent downpour that battered her face with raindrops. "_Be safe_," she breathed.

A bolt of lightning forked across the sky, thundering its reply.

* * *

><p>The SHIELD facility rumbled dully as another thunderclap bellowed overhead.<p>

Nick Fury did not so much as flinch as he stared down the bridge of his nose at the man with downcast eyes before him; he glared so intensely that Thor almost wondered if he was trying to set his armor on fire.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

"Damn it, Thor, I NEED TO KNOW!"

Thor simply stared at the ground in reply.

"Don't you understand?" Fury yelled. "I am trying to save the world from impending danger. I cannot _do_ that if the source of the danger is out of my reach. Tell me where they are!"

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!" Thor roared. "They could be in any one of the Nine Realms for all I know, each of them as vast as this entire planet."

"Well then, I'd better start looking now."

"You think that you can simply travel between worlds as you wish?" Thor snapped. "You do not have the…the techniatry!"

"Technology," Fury growled. "And who says I need technology to get where I'm going?"

"You cannot do it yourself," Thor laughed humorlessly. "To travel between the Nine Realms without technology or magic, you would need the assistance of—"

"A ruling being of one of the realms?" Fury backed up against the door. "Yes," he said flatly, "I know." He opened the door coldly. "I suggest you think very hard about where Jane and the others may have gone, for their sake. Given my mode of transportation, I expect there will be some collateral damage."

The door shut automatically behind Fury.

When he was sure that the other man was out of earshot, Thor slumped against his restraints and began to weep silently. _Jane…What have I done? _


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Professor cancelled class. I should probably use the extra time to write about Iago, but I thought I'd use the "free" time to break the hiatus and add a chapter to this story. (Kind of awkward though… "hey, I'm on hiatus guyz—lol, jk, _procrastinating so hard_.") In any case, enjoy. Also, _boltonbadboy _of YouTube is my new favorite person. If you like Hans Zimmer, look him up. Some of the best amateur work I've ever heard. **

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Loki's eyes flickered agitatedly over the horizon, looking directly into the sun as it rose into the rosy sky without seeing a thing, all of the vivid colors running together in an orange blur. He had been restless for hours. Even watching the expressions play across Darcy's face as she dreamed could not make him sit still. He wondered if this was how Thor felt all the time: jittery, almost electric shocks shivering through his veins, setting his teeth on edge and making his heart twist and pound as if he were falling. If so, he took back all prior criticisms of his brother. He would be willing to blunder into danger if it meant freeing himself from the confines of his suddenly claustrophobic mind.

What troubled him most is that he could not identify why he felt so strange. If he only _knew _what it was he should be worrying about, it wouldn't feel this way. It would not feel as if his mind had walls that were pressing in upon his soul, crushing him into a corner until he could not move. If he knew what was wrong, he would fix it—but he couldn't. He didn't have the foggiest notion what had shaken him. He could not even think of a moment when the feeling had definitively started, some instant in time that might give some hint as to his anxiety's origin. The tension simply loomed, hazy and indistinct in a fog just outside of his grasp.

He managed not to jump when a familiar hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Good morning," he murmured tersely.

Darcy's fingers curled in around his shoulder, pressing gently at the ache in his neck. She smiled perfunctorily, but did not say anything. After a moment, her free hand slid down his arm to slip into his palm. "I thought you were going to wake me earlier to take over the watch, let you sleep a bit." She frowned and reached up to brush the tips of her fingers over the dark circles beneath his eyes. "You look like hell."

"Understandable. Means of conception aside, she is my daughter."

"_I mean _I've seen med students who look better-rested than you."

Loki grimaced. "I did not wish to sleep," he said stiffly.

Darcy gave him a skeptical look.

He sighed. _Why did I promise to _never _lie to this woman? _he wondered privately. He looked away from her. "I could not sleep," he amended.

Darcy resumed rubbing her fingers into his shoulders with a look of sympathy. "Nightmares?"

Loki shook his head slowly. He had not realized how tightly he was holding his neck and shoulders until Darcy began to steal the tension away; he felt very heavy all of a sudden. "No." He wetted his lips slightly. "Something just seems...off. It's a feeling of foreboding. I have no idea what it's about, or why I'm sensing it, or-or if I've just gone mad…"

Darcy hushed him quietly. Loki finally turned to look at her. She was studying him with those startling eyes of hers, the blue seeming warmer and darker than usual. "You haven't gone crazy," she pointed out with a small smile. "To _go crazy_, you have to be sane in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I've gone un-insane?"

"Not necessarily. I just don't think you've gotten crazier than you used to be."

"Well, that's a comfort." He swallowed heavily. "We should depart shortly."

"Why? We're not on the run from anybody."

"Not yet," said Loki. "Still, should anybody unexpectedly arrive, I don't think it wise to remain in the same place for too long." _Especially when my intuition is screaming that something horrible is going to happen soon. _But he did not say that out loud.

* * *

><p>Thor awoke from his slumber in an instant when he felt a hand cover his mouth. Wordlessly, he sprang from the bed and crushed his attacker against the nearest wall. He was about to break the attacker's neck when—<p>

"Thor, don't!" He let go of the attacker in shock as he stared in wonder at the exasperated man in the doorway. "Do you ever _look_ at what you're attacking before you go in for the kill?" Rogers hissed.

"Whom," Stark interjected hoarsely. He rubbed his throat gingerly; it was turning slowly purple from Thor's crushing grip. "_Whom _he is attacking."

"We can argue about grammar later. Right now, we need to get out of here."

"My friends…I am glad to see you. But what in the name of Yggdrasil is going on?"

"Jail break," Stark said flatly. "Only I didn't have time to bake a cake, so we skipped the nail file part and went for the more direct approach. Natasha sabotaged the security systems."

"Thank you, Stark." Rogers pressed a palm to his forehead. "I don't think I'll ever be able to erase the mental image of you wearing a frilly pink apron and baking a cake."

"My pleasure." The building shook with an audible rumble. Stark squinted through a rain of dust that poured down from the ceiling.

"That'll be Banner," Rogers muttered. "We really need to move. I don't know how long he can keep Fury distracted." Without further ado, he hurled his shield at the wall closest to the outside. The cement crumbled like dried play-dough; the moonlight poured in, illuminating the entire room as the dust settled.

Rogers retrieved his shield smoothly. "There. I think that looks like Banner's handiwork."

Stark turned to Thor. "You'll need to hide once you've escaped. Do you have somewhere to go, or should I arrange for someone to assist you?"

"I am grateful for your generosity, Stark, but I must find Jane."

"Jane?" repeated Rogers. "I thought she and your brother went…"

"They did. I don't know what realm they are in." Thor smiled. "But I know someone who does, who can take me there." He strode to the hole in the wall and peered at the sky.

"Is there magic involved? Because I don't think we have any candles or goats' blood around, but we've got a virgin you could sacrifice."

Rogers somehow managed to choke despite not having anything in his mouth to choke upon.

"That will not be necessary," Thor said. He took a deep breath and let out a bellow. "Heimdall!"

"Sh!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Leaving."

Before Stark could say another word, he, Rogers, and Thor were enveloped in a bright flash of multicolored light and sound.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

"This seems like a good place to stop for the night."

Loki glanced around. He nodded. "As good a place as any. I haven't seen a tree or a cave for miles. We'll have to make do without cover." He immediately busied himself setting up camp: putting the firewood in its proper place, setting out the food for ease of preparation, finding a smooth patch to lay the bedrolls upon...but he found that someone else was already running her hands across the ground, seeking out a rock-free space. "Jane," he said, "Darcy and I can set up camp. You should sit down before you hurt your back."

"I'm fine," she said, panting slightly.

Loki crossed his arms. "Jane, I've been on the receiving end of Thor's hammer once already, and it's an experience I'd prefer not to repeat. He'll be furious if he finds out I let you exert yourself this much while you're pregnant."

"He can be furious at me then," she said, straightening up sharply. "Just because I'm carrying a baby doesn't mean I'm made of glass."

Darcy snorted. Loki raised an eyebrow at her.

"What are you chuckling about?"

"I was just..." Darcy suppressed a snicker. "I was just thinking it would be really funny if Jane turned into glass when she said that." Loki stared at her blankly. She gestured. "You know...'I'm not made of glass...LOL, JK.' And then she, like, shatters all over the place..." Darcy bit her lip. "It was funnier when it played out in my head."

"Apparently," muttered Jane.

"I heard that."

"Nobody is questioning your hearing, Darcy," said Loki. He sighed. "Alright, I'm not going to stop you from helping, Jane. But I knew nothing about it."

"Obviously," Jane said coolly, arranging the firewood into a campfire-appropriate shape.

* * *

><p>The shape of the campfire was a moot point, however, as the night proved to be so warm and humid that the addition of a fire would have made the entire party miserably uncomfortable. Even without the fire, Jane was sweltering.<p>

"Do either of you feel hot?" she said weakly, thirty minutes later as she lay sprawled out on her bedroll.

"Ugh, God no. I look awful. I'm not wearing any makeup."

"I mean thermally," Jane said exasperatedly. "Does either of you feel warm?"

"No," replied Loki. "But I may not be the best basis for comparison, given my nature."

"I don't feel anything either," Darcy said. Her eyes lit up. "Wait, I think that's one of those pregnancy things..."

"Pregnancy things?" Jane repeated.

"Yeah, you know, like morning sickness and craving prime rib at 3 in the morning and stuff. You feel warm all the time."

Jane pursed her lips. "Huh. Donald never mentioned anything like that, but then again he wasn't an ob/gyn and we were never considering having kids." Her brow furrowed. "Speaking of ob/gyns...what am I going to do when I need to deliver? Do either of you know how to deliver a baby?"

Darcy shook her head. "No baby training." Her smile brightened. "I can give mean CPR, though."

"Yeah, you've said that. A lot, actually."

"I have no experience delivering babies," Loki said slowly, "however, if it were necessary I expect I could figure it out." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Or I could pay a visit to someone who did know about childbirth. Depending on the circumstances," he added quickly. "It could very well be too risky to travel; it all depends upon who our allies are and where we are when you go into labor."

The lines in Jane's forehead deepened. "If there's any danger at all, I can manage. I don't want you or Darcy putting yourselves in danger for my sake."

"Jane," Loki said seriously. "It would be an insult if I didn't help you in any way that I could. You are Thor's wife, and I am Thor's brother. My conscience dictates that I should help you, unless doing so would endanger you."

Jane gave a little smile. "Thank you, Loki."

"No need to thank me for common decency." He grimaced and cast his eyes about the cliff-top as if hoping to change the subject. "It's nearly midnight. You both ought to sleep; we traveled a great distance today."

"I'll stay up," Darcy said promptly. "You stood watch all of last night instead of waking me up for a shift, and Jane needs to sleep. Tonight's my turn."

He closed his eyes with a sigh. "Darcy, it's quite alright..."

"Loki, please don't do this 'manlier-than-thou' thing."

"That's not...I'm not tired."

She snorted, her gaze lingering on the dark circles beneath his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England." Darcy lowered her voice and glanced at Jane; she was already preparing a space to sleep. She looked back at Loki. "Loki, what's really going on?" she asked quietly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I've told you everything," he snapped, his voice sharpening into a snarl. He pressed his lips together, immediately regretting his lapse in calm. "I won't be able to sleep knowing that nobody is taking care of you," he said softly.

"Loki, I'm not a china doll. I think I can take care of myself for a few hours. I've gotten better at magic, and I can wake you up if anything really dangerous shows up." She squinted at him. "What's with you lately? You've been acting really...weird. Which is saying something about your level of bizarre-osity, because I married you, so you were pretty weird to begin with."

"I don't know what's wrong," he said in a low voice. He sighed. "I'll go to sleep. But you must promise that you will awake me if anything serious happens."

"Pinky swear." She kissed him on the cheek. "Night."

"Night," he replied absently. He wandered over to the space where his bedroll was laid out with a dazed expression upon his face. His heart and stomach knotted; he couldn't help but feel that something was coming. It was fortuitous that Darcy had simply said "night." He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to call it "good."

* * *

><p>"Thor, we've been wandering for hours with no sign of them. We have to stop and sleep soon. I think Stark is already sleeping with his suit walking on autopilot."<p>

"I resent that assumption," Stark's computer-modulated voice grumbled blearily.

"I will not rest until I find my beloved Jane," Thor said staunchly.

"Thor, you might be able to stay up all night after a long day of work without sleep, but we can't. Stark without his suit is just a normal guy..."

"_Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist_!" Stark interjected.

"...and I still need basic human necessities to function," Rogers continued as though he had not been interrupted. "I can go without sleep for a while, and I can be hungry, but both...could be a problem. Especially for extended periods of time, if we were to keep walking like this for days."

"There will be no rest until Jane is found."

"Could we at least choose a direction and walk that way?" Stark slurred. "We've been walking in circles."

"Er...alright." Thor stared at the two men. "Which direction should we go?"

"Any direction," Stark snapped. "Spin the hammer and go the direction it points for all I care. Just-"

"Spin Mjolnir?" Thor repeated. "Man of Iron, you are a genius."

Before Stark or Rogers could protest, Thor set the hammer down on a pointed rock nearby and set it spinning. It quickly broke from its even spinning motion and rolled awkwardly onto the grass, its handle pointing directly at the corner of the sky that was slowly lightening.

"We march North!" Thor bellowed. He picked up his hammer and strode through the tall grass into the sunrise.

"North?" Rogers said.

"Different planet," Stark muttered. "Come on. Let's find Jane before I really do start snoring."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Short chapter; next one will be a nice long one, because there's plot shenanigans that will be happening (also finals will be done—yay!) **

**CHAPTER TEN**

Darcy shuddered and pulled her cloak tightly about her shoulders as a breeze rippled across the cliff-top. It might have been early spring on Earth, but the hours just before dawn on Vanaheim were bitterly cold. As the minutes crept past, Darcy imagined that she could almost _hear _the ground cracking and groaning in protest as it froze solid beneath her boots. Yet for some strange reason, it refused to snow; the rain came and went in a flickering drizzle, but the water droplets refused to turn to ice. She internally debated waking up Loki-he seemed to _enjoy _the cold, understandably enough. But her pride got the better of her; she couldn't wake him up and ask him to take her shift after practically forcing him to go to sleep. Then again...it was _very_ cold. Not to mention, he would probably be less than thrilled if he awoke to find that her lips had frozen solid...or her fingers, for that matter.

Darcy sighed and turned to look at Loki, surrendering to the goosebumps upon goosebumps that peppered her skin. She wondered momentarily how on earth she would ask him to get up and take her shift. She got as far as bemoaning the fact that she would in all likelihood be forced to admit that she was mistaken, possibly on bent knee, when her eyes came to rest upon Loki's sleeping figure. Her breath caught in her throat as though snatched away by a sudden gust of cold wind.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had never seen Loki sleeping. On their journey to Jotunheim, when they were dating, after they got married...the only time she was ever awake in the presence of a sleeping Loki was when she awoke for the briefest instant in the dark of the night after a strange dream and inevitably turned on her side, or slid between his arms, before falling fast asleep. She was never the first one up in the morning. When she awoke, it was either to see a pair of green eyes looking down at her or to find that Loki had vacated his side of the bed early and was off creating or resolving some sort of mischief.

She vowed silently to start waking up earlier and curled up beside him to get a better look. Watching Loki sleep was the most strangely compelling thing she had ever done in her life. It wasn't that he became prettier in sleep, or that his wickedly crooked smirk traded places with an angelic smile in his dreams-on the contrary, Darcy loved the weird little facial expressions he made when he was thinking to himself or going about his daily routine. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about watching him sleep made her whole hum with quiet, thrilling energy. Part of it might have been that she could watch him unguarded. She could stare at him all she liked and not worry about getting "caught." Part of it may have been seeing his true face. Darcy could practically see the dreams playing across his face as he slept: the twitch of an eyelid, the smirk of his lips, the furrow of a brow. And part of it may have been peace. When Darcy watched his chest rise and fall, his heartbeat thudding in harmony with her own, his deep, sweet scent enveloping her, every thought and worry in her mind faded away. It was as though they were two stars without planets, orbiting each other without a care in the world for what anyone else did, or what anyone else thought. They were alone in the universe, together.

Her musings were interrupted by the sudden, resounding _CRACK _of a twig snapping. She immediately stood up and looked about, searching for the source of the noise. The cliff was bare but for the sparse grass and small shrubs scattered around. She frowned. It must have been her imagination.

As she relaxed and began to sit down, she heard the soft sound of footsteps upon the grass. She glimpsed a large shape in her peripheral vision that had not been there moments before. Instinctively, she whirled around to strike the intruder with a yell, her fists flying madly and eyes scrunched tightly closed.

"I'm warning you!" she shouted. "Get away or I'll—" She stopped abruptly. Her punches were having no effect. In fact, she suspected that her knuckles might be bruising, because it felt as though she were punching a rock. She opened her eyes and gaped for a moment.

"Uh…Hi, Thor."

**On an unrelated note, I'm currently working on a screenplay that I'm super-excited about, and I would love to have some people read it for the purposes of getting constructive criticism. If anyone's interested in that sort of thing, feel free to Private Message me and I'll shoot you the draft so you can mark it up with comments.**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

"…so we went in the direction Thor's hammer pointed, and here we are."

"I'm not sure I understand," Loki said after a moment. "Father let Thor be captured, but Heimdall helped you travel between realms? How is that possible? Heimdall cannot disobey a direct order from his king. Unless…" His brow furrowed. "Thor, when Father spoke with Fury, what _exactly_ did he say?"

"Uh…" Thor's face scrunched up in thought, his eyes wandering upwards as if he were looking to the sky for answers. "He said…Something about how he would let me be captured."

"Well _that's_ specific," Loki muttered darkly.

"I think his exact words were 'I will permit you to take my son into your custody.'" Stark said. "He said this to Fury," he added unnecessarily.

Loki's facial expression instantly brightened. His eyes gleamed. "Of course," he said under his breath. "It's brilliant."

"What's brilliant?" Rogers asked.

"Father said that he would allow Fury to _capture _Thor—and, presumably, aid him by ordering Thor to submit. But he never said he would not help release Thor once he was captured nor, I expect, expressly prohibit Heimdall from abetting him."

"So Fury will not be able to find us here," Thor said slowly.

Loki pursed his lips. "I wish it were that simple."

"The Olympians?" Darcy said, taking in the look on his face anxiously.

"The Olympians," he confirmed grimly. "Other pantheons. There are countless people SHIELD could turn to for help."

"Okay, raise your hand if you're confused," Stark interrupted loudly. His hand shot into the air promptly. After a few seconds, Rogers' hand reluctantly followed.

"There are other groups of people like Thor and Loki and Odin," Jane explained.

"Gods," Stark said slowly. He made a face as though he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the idiocy of the conversation.

"They're not at all supernatural and they're not actual deities," Darcy interjected impatiently. "They just looked like gods to primitive civilizations."

Rogers' eyes narrowed. "You both mentioned _Olympians_. Are those the Olympians, as in—"

"From Mount Olympus?" Rogers nodded. Loki smiled crookedly. "After a fashion. They originally resided on Mount Olympus, but they prefer to move about every so often, usually to centers of Western art and learning. At the moment, they're in New York City."

"Greek gods," Rogers repeated numbly. "Zeus and Athena and Ares and all the rest. In New York City."

"In the Empire State Building, yes."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "So are there actually talking cats and dung beetles wandering around Cairo, or was the kohl playing tricks on the Ancient Egyptians' eyes?"

"In a sense, yes," Loki said. "Most of the animal-deities actually look very much like the Aesir do—in terms of appearing human, I mean—but they chose to take on animal forms to make their day-to-day lives easier. That way they could behave as a deity under the guise of their chosen animal and go incognito as an ordinary human if they so desired." He grimaced. "Of course, _some of them_ decided it would be amusing to walk around as mythological beasts that did not exist, scaring the citizenry witless in the process. And when I say 'some of them,' I actually mean Seth." Loki rolled his eyes as he said the name. "It was a good day for everyone when the Egyptian deities left for their realm and decided to drag Seth with them."

Rogers didn't say anything. He just stared at Loki, completely at a loss for words.

Stark rubbed his face wearily. "I need a drink," he said finally.

"You always need a drink," Rogers pointed out, startling from his haze of post-revelation confusion.

"You're right. What I really need is a joint."

"I'm sorry, a what?"

"A joint."

"Wait a minute…you're forty years old. Tops. What could possibly be wrong with your joints?"

Jane sighed heavily as Stark began trying to explain to Rogers what marijuana was. "I think Stark's going to be explaining stoner culture to Rogers for a while," she mumbled.

Thor leaned in to speak to Loki in a low voice. "Brother, why were you and Lady Darcy so concerned about the Olympians? What do they have to do with SHIELD?"

"Fury's trying to catch you, right?" Darcy said. Thor nodded. "Then he's not going to give up without a fight," she continued. "He's going to do everything he can to catch you."

Thor blinked at her. "I don't understand," he said.

"What she means, Brother," Loki interrupted bluntly, "is that Heimdall and I are not the only beings capable of inter-dimensional travel between realms."

Thor's eyes widened. "No," he said. "Father has always been on good terms with the other deities. Even if they wished to rebel, they wouldn't dare go against the power of Asgard."

"They wouldn't be rebelling against Asgard," Darcy pointed out. "On paper, Odin's neutral."

"From a diplomatic perspective, they are free to take sides as they see fit. No strings attached. No messy consequences."

Thor opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it as his mind began to catch up with Loki and Darcy's words. He set his mouth into a straight line and unconsciously threw his shoulders back to stand up straighter. "Then there is no time to waste," he said, slipping into battle-mode. "We must rally the other deities behind our cause before Fury has a chance to recruit them." He stood, picked up his hammer, and began walking away from the camp. "Tell Jane that I have gone to visit the Olympians."

"No," Loki said flatly.

Thor frowned. "No? What do you mean no?" He pointed forcefully into the distance. "If Fury manages to ally with a single deity, they will bring an army against us. We must fight back with equal force."

"For once, I don't disagree with your tactics, brother." Loki frowned and his tone sharpened. "But Jane is with child—_your_ child—and she's been fretting to the point of illness while you've been gone. If she were to lose the child, all this trouble we've gone to will have been for naught. It would be unwise to leave her." He stood. "I will speak with the others, dissuade them from siding with Fury and convince them to be our allies instead."

Thor looked rather crestfallen.

Loki sighed. "That does not mean you cannot put your charisma to military use." He smiled. "There are others in Vanaheim."

Thor's eyes lit up. "Of course," he laughed. "Why didn't I think of that? If Asgard is neutral, the Vanir are free to ally with whomever they chose."

"And they will be formidable allies indeed," Loki muttered. "We should consider ourselves fortunate that the warrior kings of Vanaheim have a long and amicable history with the Aesir." He nodded. "I think it is decided then."

"Agreed," Thor said. "You will gather what allies you can in other realms. I will take the others with me to Aelwyd." He turned to the others. "We leave at dawn," he declared.

Darcy took Loki's hand. "I'll go with you," she said quietly.

"No…Darcy—"

"What? You don't think I could be useful persuading people?"

"Darcy," Loki sighed, "I have full confidence in the persuasive abilities of both you and your interesting choice in necklines." Loki tried not to feel too pleased as Darcy flushed slightly. When he spoke again, he tried to make his voice as deadly serious as possible. "But this is a very delicate operation I am about to embark on, one where I'm afraid you would be at a disadvantage. I have dealt with the other deities before."

"I've dealt with Medea," Darcy said indignantly.

"In combat," Loki countered smoothly, "which is something I desperately wish to avoid at the moment. I grew up immersed in the politics between realms. You have not had that opportunity, and I don't think now is the time for you to get acquainted the politics of gods. One false move and we could find ourselves facing a terrible war." Loki's heart twinged guiltily at the hurt look on Darcy's face. "And," he added lamely, "I expect Jane is going to get quite lonely if you leave. Since you are the only other woman at present."

Darcy scowled, but her shoulders slumped in surrender. "Damn it," she mumbled. "You had to play the pregnant-lady card, didn't you?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "You realize that's cheating, right?"

"Trickster."

Darcy smiled humorlessly. "Alright. I'll stay." She narrowed her eyes. "But only if you stay one night longer."

"Why? Fury is on the move. We have no time to waste."

"Well, as you pointed out," Darcy said quietly, "you are about to set out on a dangerous mission which, if you fail, could end in war."

Loki's face softened. "Oh," he replied softly. It was the only word he could make his lips produce, and the only thing he could think to say. He was completely at a loss for words. All at once he was plunged inside his own mind, drowning in his darkest thoughts. _War. _The thought had never bothered him before. He had always been well protected in Asgard. Even if war had broken out between the jotun and the Aesir, the battleground would have been Earth. The jotun could not travel to Asgard; it was safe there. But now, nowhere was safe. _Nobody _was safe. Not him, not Thor, not Darcy.

For a fleeting moment, he was determined to call the whole thing off. Jane could get rid of the child, for the good of everyone, and Darcy could return to Asgard where it was safe. But then he saw her unwavering eyes. He realized that she would never let him do such a thing. For that matter, he couldn't make himself do such a thing. Safe or not, Darcy didn't belong in a cage, not even the vast, magnificent golden halls of Asgard.

Finally, he nodded. "I will stay the night. At daybreak, we part ways." He pressed his lips to her forehead. He closed his eyes, imprinting the feeling into his memory. He couldn't shake the feeling that this kiss might be the last.

* * *

><p>Darcy was startled awake by a flash of multicolored light. She sat upright as though she were zapped by lightning and let out a little yelp of surprise.<p>

Loki shot up out of bed beside her, his dagger drawn before the sound of Darcy's shout had completely faded. He pointed the blade at a figure in the darkness. "Who goes there?" he bellowed at the figure. "Show yourself!"

Darcy backed away instinctively as the figure came forward; Jane and the men hurried to Darcy's side to greet—or fight—the stranger. The light of the dying fire slowly illuminated the figure until Darcy could see the stranger clearly: a woman with ghostly white skin, jet black hair, and silver eyes so light they were almost transparent.

Loki, his eyes wider than Darcy had ever seen them, lowered his dagger slowly. "_Hel_?" he said incredulously. The woman nodded. Loki sheathed his dagger. He glanced at Thor in bewilderment bordering on panic. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be guarding the underworld."

"So I am," Hel replied flatly, "which is precisely why I am here to see you and Thor. I'm afraid I come bearing some very bad news."

"Is it Father?" Thor burst out, pushing past Loki and Darcy blindly. "Is he alright?"

"The All-Father is quite alright. It is those beyond Asgard's protective walls for whom I fear." She frowned, her eyes resting upon Stark and Rogers. "Particularly those in your company cursed with fragile mortality." She returned her gaze to Loki and Thor abruptly. "I come to tell you that on this night the gates of my realm were forcibly opened, freeing thousands of villainous souls who, as we speak, roam the Nine Realms unchecked."

Thor and Loki were struck speechless.

"Who did it?" Darcy finally asked. "Was it Medea again?"

"No," Hel said firmly. "Medea has not left the realm of Hades since she crossed over. Whoever did this was alive. I could feel their life. I do not know who has committed this terrible crime. But I pity any who stand in their way." Her eyes glazed over with an almost wistful look. "I have not felt such powerful magic since the Bifrost was destroyed." Her gaze sharpened once more, and her expression became dark. She turned to look directly at Loki. "I fear there is more to tell—worse, even, than the news which I have already given you. There is one soul in particular who escaped…someone who should have _never _been set free."

"Sigyn?"

"No. Far worse than that." The look on her face was almost one of pity as she looked at Loki now. "Balder has escaped."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: The second segment of this chapter is 1****st**** Person Loki POV, in case any of you get terribly confused by the sudden shift. I thought it would be simpler to just create a new section from his point of view than make the speech one long monologue. **

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Loki swallowed heavily. "Then there is no time to waste." He strode away from the campsite without so much as glancing at Darcy. "I must leave immediately."

She ran to catch up with him. "The sun hasn't risen yet! You promised you would stay until dawn."

"I made that promise before I knew that Balder had escaped. Our circumstances have radically changed in the past five minutes…possibly beyond any hope of recovery." He pressed his lips together. "I must leave as soon as possible if we are to survive."

"Loki, what's going on? Why does it matter if your little brother returns to life?"

He whirled around. "Balder," he snarled, "is not my brother."

"Alright, then," Darcy said, rolling her eyes, "adopted brother."

"You don't understand…Balder is not my brother in any sense of the word." He paused as if considering saying more. He decided against it. "I have to go."

"Loki, what's going on?" He didn't turn around. Darcy crossed her arms. "Damn it, Loki, you said you would never lie to me or break a promise. You promised you would stay until dawn!"

Loki stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Darcy's hands crept up Loki's back to rest on his shoulders. "Just tell me what's going on," she said quietly. "Please."

Loki turned to look at her. He stared at the ground, his shoulders slumping reluctantly. "Very well. If you really wish to know…"

* * *

><p>Balder was the third brother, a few years younger than Thor and I. The stories usually associate him with light and describe him as the handsome one, which I suppose is true enough to some eyes. He did have some stereotypically 'attractive' qualities: straight nose, blue eyes, sandy hair, tan. I believe Midgardians now might refer to it as "all-American," although he, of course, was not American in any way. In any case, he was the charming one. The good guy. He was the brother that everyone liked, even more than Thor.<p>

When he was about the equivalent of fifteen by your measurement of time, his charisma vanished and he became grim. It was a gradual change, one that I didn't notice until long after it had begun, but within a few months of his birthday, he smiled so infrequently that people stared at him when he did bare those straight teeth of his. Eventually, our mother noticed that something was wrong and asked him to tell her what was troubling him. He said that he was having visions-a gift he inherited from her-and that he was constantly plagued by nightmares of his own death. Frigga did not know of any way to make the visions cease, so she instead decided to remove the cause of the visions that troubled him. She planned to cast a spell so that he could not be killed.

With the help of her handmaidens, she scoured the Nine Realms for every manner of material that she could think of...stones, metals, woods, poisons...She even managed to capture a bolt of lightning in a jar. Once she had gathered everything that could ever hurt Balder, she and Odin performed the enchantment upon him in front of all of the citizenry so that none of the assembled materials or people could ever hurt him. After the spell was cast, as he turned away to return to his quarters, I noticed a small smirk upon his lips. It was uncharacteristic of him; when he smiled, it radiated mirth and compassion and all the other positive things that can be embodied in a smile. What I saw that day was a different beast entirely; it was cruel and self-satisfied. Suspicious, I followed him and waited invisibly for him to leave his room. When he departed for supper, I crept into his room and looked for something that might give me a clue as to what he was planning. Then I found it: a ledger, filled with new laws and regulations. At the top of the page was a heading: "by order of King Balder."

I intended to steal the journal and bring it to my father as proof that Balder planned to overthrow him, but before I could leave, Balder returned to his room and found me going through his things. He seemed surprised at first, but he remained calm...it was a terrifying calm. There have only been a few times in my life when I was truly afraid, but that was one of them: watching, waiting to see when the cool facade would snap and I would be slain by a boy who could not be killed. He did not attack me. He simply laughed. He told me that it didn't matter that I knew about his plans, for nobody would ever believe me. I left before he had a chance to change his mind and kill me.

I awoke the next morning with a pair of fists flying into my stomach. In the middle of the night, Sif's hair had been cut off, and I, as the resident trickster, was blamed for it. I knew immediately what had happened. Balder had cut off Sif's hair in order to ruin my credibility, as well as to get rid of me for several weeks. While I called upon the Dwarves to create new hair for Sif, Balder continued to scheme. When I came back, his earlier charisma had returned. He had everyone in the palace wrapped around his finger...including Sif. She had fancied him for a while; in my absence, he apparently decided that it would be a wise move to have the third-most-gifted warrior in the realm on his arm. I decided to search his room again, hoping to find evidence of his guilt. Evidently, he had learned a few tricks of the magical trade while I was gone, for the moment I stepped into his room I found myself bound up in a magical spider-web. Balder decided that I was too dangerous to keep alive, but he could not afford to have blood on his hands. Disguised as me, he returned to the Dwarves and made an outrageous bet with them regarding their craftsmanship abilities, with my head as the wager. Thankfully, he was clumsy in his wording of the bet, and I managed to escape with my life. But my lips were sewn shut, and while Balder continued to scheme, I was forced to keep my mouth shut about his plans. I decided that there was nothing else to be done: Balder had to be killed.

I disguised myself as an old woman and visited my mother. After we had finished tea, I began asking her questions about her delightful youngest son, Balder. Finally, after a long line of questioning, I discovered one object that she had overlooked: mistletoe. She had thought mistletoe too frail and harmless to possibly cause Balder any harm. That very night, I planted a dream in Thor's mind which prominently featured a game where everyone threw things at Balder, just to prove how impervious he truly was. Thor told the Warriors of his game the next day, and the sport soon caught on. Soon, everyone was playing the game. However, there was one more obstacle to be overcome. You see, in her protective enchantment, Frigga had the foresight to include people. The servants hung banners all over town commanding all citizens to attend an important ceremony, and all the citizens attended...all but one. The blind man, Hod, could not read the signs and had no friends to read them in his stead, and so he alone was exempt from the enchantment protecting Balder. I went to him-the stitches from my mouth finally removed-and asked him why he did not play the Balder game. He explained sadly that he was blind and had no friends to guide his hand in throwing things. I replied that I could help him throw. So I took a sprig of mistletoe and placed it in his hand, and guiding his arm I helped him throw the sprig directly at Balder's heart.

Balder was killed instantly, and he fell to the ground. At first, the others thought he was jesting, and they laughed. But after several minutes where he did not arise, it suddenly dawned on the crowd: Balder was dead. The guards almost killed Hod, but not wanting an innocent, lonely blind man to take the blame for something I felt no shame for doing, I stepped in and explained what had happened. I was thrown into prison as the rest of Asgard mourned the death of their beloved prince. I tried to explain that I had done it for a good reason, but no one would hear of it. I was believed to be jealous of Balder, and especially of his relationship with Sif-after all, why would I cut off her hair if not to treasure it as a token from a woman I was obsessed with? With heavy hearts, my parents planned to execute me, for that was the law of the land.

Then Hel made them an offer that they could not resist. In order to ease my sentence, she said that she would free Balder from the underworld if everything in nature mourned for his death. She meant well, but I could not allow Balder to come back to life, especially now that Frigga realized her error in omitting mistletoe and would surely amend the enchantment to make Balder truly invincible. I refused to mourn. Infuriated by what they saw as my betrayal, my parents decided that my crimes merited a fate worse than death. The guards bound me to a rock beneath the earth, under the gaping mouth of a terrible snake which dripped venom from its fangs. Sigyn, foolish girl, visited me on occasion and held a bowl beneath the snake's mouth to catch the venom, but more often than not she became so distracted by the sight of me tied up naked that she accidentally let the bowl tip and pour venom all over me.

Eventually, my mother recovered from her grief enough that she was able to go through Balder's things and clean out his room. When she opened his desk, she found dozens of journals like the one I had found, some of them drafts of laws and statutes, some of them lists of people he intended to execute, and others were simply journals recounting what he really thought about the people around him and his plans to take over the realm. They freed me then, once they realized their error, and they apologized...but Odin never thanked me. I chose to endure the most grievous type of torture imaginable in order to protect his rule, and he did not once show me any sign of his gratitude. It made me resentful. I burned with hate. All I could ever think about was how I had given up everything to protect the people I loved, and they could not even be brought to thank me, not even once. That was when I began to plot Thor's banishment, and my attack upon Jotunheim. I realized that nobody on Asgard was interested in loyalty or sacrifice. All they cared about was war, bravery and brute strength upon the battlefield. I thought that if I proved myself in that arena, maybe then somebody would thank me. Maybe then...somebody would be proud of me.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Wrote this chapter while listening to the Rango and two Sherlock Holmes soundtracks…Also, minor note: I haven't been getting many reviews lately. I'm not sure if that just means people are bored of my work, or if people are reading and just not reviewing. In any case, if you have time, please review! (Especially since I tend to look at the profiles of people who review my stories and read **_**their**_** stories if they happen to be part of a fandom I follow). Third and final note: I recently began another Loki-centric fic called "By Virtue Fall," featuring Evil Loki and an OC (soon to be two OCs), so if you're looking for reading material, it would make my day if you could stop by my page and read it.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_A week later. Buffalo Gap, Texas._

Loki wrinkled his nose. Why anyone would choose to frequent a place such as this—a filthy brick-and-mortar box packed to the gills with overweight men clad in leather and rail-thin woman wearing significantly _less _leather, not a tattoo-free arm in the entire room_—_was completely beyond him. The smell alone would be enough to deter any civilized Aesir, and the acrid taste of the cheap liquor would turn away the rest…except for Volstagg, and even he would likely grimace a little bit if he were to choke down a tankard full of the mortals' wretched excuse for ale called "beer."

He grimaced, tugging at his waistband for the umpteenth time that hour. The clothes were horrid, too. He could accustom himself to _some_ modern mortal clothing easily enough. In fact, he had grown very fond of their suits (a fact which may or may not have been the direct result of the lingering looks Darcy sent his way whenever he wore them), to the point that he would almost consider wearing them about Asgard if only the Warriors Three would quit sniggering when he wore them in their presence. But these _jeans _were absolute murder.

"I ain't never seen you round these here parts."

Loki whirled around and found himself face to face with a very fat man with greasy pink skin and tiny, deep-set eyes. Beneath the bloodshot hue, however, he found a very familiar pair of tawny irises staring back at him. He relaxed immediately, but continued scowling.

"I could say the same of you," he said coolly. "It took me days to find you here. The last I heard you were in New Mexico."

"I was," the man drawled, "till them SHIELD agents done gone pokin' around. I skedaddled right outta there minute they showed up, and I been hidin' 'round here ever since." He snorted, and Loki heard him swallow phlegm. He curled his lip in disgust. The man didn't seem to notice. "You been out of the loop."

"I've been…busy." He raised an eyebrow at a black marking on the man's bicep: a coyote, silhouetted against the moon. "You definitely did not have _that _the last time I saw you."

The man chuckled. "I got me a couple more of those. I can show 'em to yer in a back room if yer like."

Loki smiled weakly. "Lead the way."

* * *

><p>The man closed the door.<p>

"_I ain't never seen you round these here parts_?" Loki repeated incredulously. "Showing me your tattoos in a back room? That's laying it on a bit thick, Coyote, even for you."

"Oh, come now," the man answered, his drawl abruptly replaced by an even, fluid dialect. He grinned as his skin darkened and shrank until it lay snugly against his wiry frame like a coffee-colored glove. His eyes were the last to change, gleaming a bright golden-orange as the blue-gray film vanished from his pupils, his lids enlarging and stretching until they were each the precise shape of an almond. "I was just having a little bit of fun." He produced a bottle of amber liquor seemingly from nowhere and poured himself a glass. His courtesy suddenly returning to him in mid-sip, he proffered the bottle to Loki.

He poured himself a measure before handing the bottle back to Coyote. "Between you and me, I think we both know that 'a little bit of fun' generally doesn't bode well for those on the receiving end of said 'fun.'"

Coyote smirked and poured himself another glass. "I'll drink to that." He threw his head back and downed the liquid in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in a way that was somehow boorish and graceful at the same time. "So, my silver-tongued friend: what brings you to this fine establishment? Come to get away from the prison of marriage for a day?"

Loki froze. "Hardly," he said stiffly. "I'm actually quite happy to be married."

Coyote laughed. "Oh, so she's pretty, then?"

"And many other things," Loki interjected sourly. "But yes. She's…pretty." _Understatement. _He narrowed his eyes at Coyote. "But how did you know? You weren't invited to the wedding. Raven certainly wasn't."

"The grapevine," Coyote replied, not missing a beat.

Loki stared at Coyote skeptically. "You? Listening to gossip like some crotchety old woman?"

Coyote's smile faded slightly.

Loki shook his head. "Really, old friend. If you're going to lie, go for the obvious way out." He held up his right hand and wriggled his ring finger.

"Damn it," Coyote snapped. All at once, all traces of mirth on his face were wiped away. He glowered at Loki. "I knew the mortals had some odd wedding custom, but I couldn't remember what it was."

"So how did you know?"

Coyote sighed reluctantly. "You are not the first person who has sought to meet with me this week. I haven't done anything too egregious lately, so I began digging around for information to find out who _was _in trouble."

Loki paled. "Fury?"

"Fury?" Coyote said, raising his eyebrows. "Is that his name? Bald, black man…" He gestured to his own face. "One eye?"

"I'm afraid so." Loki paused. "What did you discuss?"

"We didn't." Coyote took a swig directly from the bottle of liquor before continuing, his voice a touch gravelly with drink. "I told you in the bar, I've been avoiding SHIELD like the Plague of Blankets. I don't like men who claim to have 'authority.' Especially men in authority who think they have the right to walk in wherever they please and own everything they touch."

"So you didn't help them?"

"Of course not."

Loki let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His sigh did not escape Coyote's notice.

"Don't mistake my neutrality for allegiance, Loki. I hate being involved in politics, no matter whose side I'm really on. You know that."

"I do." He turned his wrist about slowly, watching the droplets swirl in the base of his glass. "Unless…there was a fee involved."

He thought he saw Coyote's eyes light up for an instant, but when he looked again, Coyote's face was blank. "What sort of fee are we talking about, exactly?"

"Name your price."

He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment.

Loki knew _that_ look. "Name your price, _within reason_," he amended.

Coyote peered at Loki intently. "Is Lady Sif still single by any chance?"

"You seem a little unclear on the concept of 'within reason.'"

"No, actually, I think I'm perfectly clear on it." Coyote crossed his arms. "I desire a date with Lady Sif. That is my price."

"_A date_?"

"It's a modern mortal custom," Coyote said impatiently.

"I know what it is," Loki snapped. "Have you taken leave of your senses? Do you remember what happened the last time you expressed your interest in Sif?"

Coyote grinned, his eyes glazing over. "Do I ever," he said dreamily.

Loki buried his face in his hands. "Isn't there something else you would accept? Gold? Mead? Firstborn children?"

"No substitutes," Coyote said firmly. "I want a date with Lady Sif, here on Earth, in a place of my choosing, wearing attire suitable for blending in with the mortals. Do we have a deal?"

Loki sighed.

"Deal."

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

Loki closed his eyes. _I knew this would happen. _"Sif," he began.

"No." She crossed her arms. "I am _not _going on a 'date' with Coyote."

"Oh, come now. Surely he's not that hideous."

Sif gave Loki a glare that would melt steel. "You know perfectly well that that is not the reason for my objection," she snapped. She uncrossed her arms and began sharpening her sword. "Coyote is a beast."

"Anthropomorphic," Loki corrected.

"Beast," Sif repeated stubbornly. "He's a liar, a cheat, and a manipulative scoundrel who uses his good looks for selfish ends. And he's never fought an honest day's battle in his life, the slippery little weasel—always using magic to compensate for his weakness."

"In essence, he is everything you hate about me, sans chivalry."

"Loki, you are a great many things. Chivalrous is not one of them." She drew the blade of her sword along the grindstone with such ferocity that it sent sparks skittering towards Loki's feet with every stroke. "Irksome? Foolish? Soon-to-be-dead?"

"Oh, goody: death threats," Loki said mildly. "I must be getting somewhere."

Sif swung her sword around abruptly, bringing the newly sharpened point to the base of Loki's neck. He stared down his nose at it, his eyes crossing as he tried to focus upon the blade. "I should slit your throat right now for daring to make such an absurd agreement without my consent."

"I had no choice," Loki muttered. He tried to inch away from the sword, only to realize that he was already pressed against the wall. He swallowed heavily; the tip of Sif's sword brushed against his Adam's apple. "He would not accept anything else in exchange for his coming to Thor's aid." Sif's face softened slightly and Loki knew that he had won. Stony-hearted as she was, she was unwaveringly loyal to Thor. Loki swallowed again. He decided to push his luck. "Could you please remove your weapon from my jugular?"

Sif hesitated for a moment. Loki screwed his eyes shut; if Sif was determined to cut his throat, he didn't want to see it coming.

He heard the sound of a sword being sheathed. He opened his eyes and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Sif slapped him.

"_Ow."_ He glared at Sif resentfully. "Was that really necessary?"

"Be grateful that your blood is not running down your neck at this very moment, trickster," Sif said darkly. She grabbed a quiver from her bedside and stormed out of the room before Loki could retort. "And tell the Warriors Three to make for Vanaheim. I will join them when my torment is over."

Loki called after her. "Thank you!" He saw her shadow against the wall make a very rude hand gesture. He smiled. _Five down. More to go._

**AN: By the way, good job catching the Riordan reference, Rose1991. If any of my readers are familiar with his series of books, one upcoming chapter might have a little bit of Fridge Heartbreaking for you. If not, that's cool; the story stands on its own, but it has some nifty implications if you work under the assumption that Riordan's Hermes and mine are one and the same.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Short chapter to celebrate a new semester! As always, reviews are love. And a quick pronunciation guide for this chapter…**

**Aelwyd – ILE-widd**

**Relygyr – RELL-ih-geer**

**Ealyse – AY-uh-leese**

**Vitorija – vih-TORE-ee-ya**

**Torygyr – TORE-ih-geer**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

The crimson sky was devoured by soft shades of pink and orange as the sun began to rise above the mountains, casting swaths of golden light across the fields below.

Darcy peered into the distance at a small area of newly illuminated land. Barely visible in the still-faint light was a cluster of rustic wooden dwellings with thatched roofs and white walls that looked as though they had survived a hundred years of weather.

"Aelwyd," Thor supplied, a note of pride in his voice. "Hearth of Vanaheim. Home of Relygyr, son of Torygyr."

Darcy raised her eyebrows at him. "Home of Relygyr. As in the _king_?" She looked back at the buildings, her jaw dropping. "You're kidding."

Jane pursed her lips. "Thor, are you sure this is the capital?"

"Of course," said Thor. "Father and Loki and I used to attend great feasts here during the harvest season. Finest cider throughout the Nine Realms…but don't tell Idunn I said that."

"Odin and Loki," Steve said. "What about your mother?"

Thor's face seemed to crumple slightly from within, as though his boisterous cheer were held in place by a balloon that had just deflated. "My mother remained home out of respect for Relygyr's feelings."

Stark suddenly perked up. "He liked her?"

Thor shook his head. "Relygyr and my mother? Never." He began to walk down the side of the hill, holding Jane's hand as she clambered over the larger rocks. "No, my mother chose to remain at home when we visited so she would not remind Relygyr of his loss." He grimaced. "His wife, Vitorija the Fire-Hearted, died many years ago shortly after giving birth to her daughter Ealyse."

Jane looked alarmed.

"The _king's wife _died in childbirth, and you're bringing Jane _here _to give birth?" Steve interjected, looking utterly horrified.

Thor's eyes widened. "What? No, she didn't die in childbirth! I wouldn't…I would fight an army of frost giants with my bare hands before letting Jane put her life in danger." He shook his head again, shaken. "No, no, Vitorija died after she gave birth. It was in the midst of the Great War. The jotun had invaded Vanaheim, and Relygyr sent his wife into hiding in the wilderness with her family—members of a nomadic people known as the Pavir—for safekeeping. But their caravan was stopped when Vitorija went into labor. She gave birth to Ealyse safely, but her screams of pain and the baby's cries alerted a band of jotun to their position. They were attacked. It took three giants to finish Vitorija even in her weakened state; she was a master swordswoman. The jotun killed them all, except for one: the infant Ealyse."

"Why didn't they kill her?" Darcy asked curiously. "I mean, Laufey left his own son in a temple to die. I don't think the jotun are really into chivalry."

"It was not chivalry that saved her life." Thor scowled. "It was fear. Jotun legend told of a maiden born in a time of war whose death would destroy their entire army. The jotun were afraid that—" He was cut off by the blast of a horn from within one of Aelwyd's halls. He drew his sword abruptly. "Do you hear that?"

Their entire party stopped to listen. Darcy's eyes lit up.

"Are they calling Aslan?"

"I don't know who Aslan is," Thor said darkly, "but whoever he is, I hope he hears their call. That is the Horn of Nyklot." He passed Jane off to Stark. "Carry her. There is no time to waste. We must get to Aelwyd as soon as we can."

"What's going on? What's the Horn of Nyklot?" Rogers asked.

"The Horn is a rallying cry for the warriors of Vanaheim, summoning them to the city. It is a call for help. Aelwyd must be expecting an attack."


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Enjoy the new chapter! Read and review!**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

_New York, New York_

The marble hall shook at the sound of a thunderclap. Every face in the room turned to look at the golden throne at the head of the hall. Zeus rose to his feet.

"Are all who wish to take part in this dialogue present, knowing and understanding that once the council has commenced, no other persons may join?"

Loki glanced around the hall, nodding politely to each Olympian as his gaze passed over them. His eyes settled on an empty throne with a frown.

The Olympians took no notice of his displeasure. "All who wish to be present are gathered, my lord," said Athena.

"The council will commence." Zeus took his seat as Athena vacated hers to stand at a small podium on the right side of the room.

"Loki Odinson," she began, "Prince of Asgard, you have called a council of the gods of Olympus, the sixth such council since the overthrow of Cronus and the _first _council of its kind in nearly three centuries." Athena raised an eyebrow sardonically. "I trust that you understand the gravity of your request."

"I am aware of the implications of such a council."

"Very well. Proceed with your statement."

Loki licked his lips. "My friends," he said, "trusted allies of Asgard: I come before you today with a call to arms. My brother, Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of Asgard, is in desperate need of your aid. His wife, Jane Foster, Once-Mortal Princess, is expecting her first child: a son whom many believe to be the subject of a prophecy. The prophecy indicates that this child—the son of Odin's son—will bring about the end of the world as we know it."

Zeus' brow furrowed. He stroked his beard, his eyes looking through Loki, apparently lost in thought.

"A clarification," Poseidon said. "What were the words of the original prophecy?" A few of the other Olympians nodded at the question.

Loki cleared his throat. "Out of Odin's blood, the catalyst is born. The son of Odin's son shall make the whole world mourn. The end of days is looming. Apocalypse draws nigh. An evil now is stirring. It breathes a waking sigh. The world shall lie in ruins and smolder in the night. The son of Odin's eldest son shall extinguish every light. The streets will run with scarlet, and the thrum of hearts shall cease. Man will no longer rule the earth, and be consumed by beasts. The only means to cease this, on which choice it doth depend, is to slay the son of Odin's son, to make him meet his end."

The hall erupted in whispers.

Zeus raised his hand. "Silence," he bellowed.

The Olympians stopped speaking.

Zeus turned to look at Loki, this time with focus. "And what would you, son of Odin, have me do?"

"I ask only for your aid in defending Thor's unborn son from those who seek to kill him."

"What are we waiting for?" Ares burst out, jumping to his feet and drawing his sword before anyone else in the room had a chance to respond. "Slay the bastards! Slay them all!"

Athena rubbed her temples wearily. "Oh dear," she muttered dryly.

"Let us cut their throats and stain the fields with scarlet!"

"Peace, Ares," Zeus said.

"The world will no longer know the _meaning_ of the word peace! Let there be war—"

"Ares…" said Hera warningly.

"—and gruesome bloodshed and blazes of fire and—"

"ARES!"

Everyone—Zeus included—whipped around to stare at Hera in alarm.

She smiled sweetly. "Ares, darling, would you please sit down? Loki is trying to speak, and it's _very_ rude to interrupt."

Ares returned to his seat with a sigh, scowling and muttering darkly. "Says the woman who just interrupted _me_."

"What was that?" Hera demanded.

"Nothing," Ares added hurriedly. "Nothing, Mother."

"Good boy." Hera beamed at Loki. "Please continue."

"Er…" Loki cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. As I was saying, Thor is in need of military aid to protect his unborn child."

"Might I ask whom we would be defending the child against?" Athena asked.

"I daresay you might," Loki said, "but I regret to inform you that I don't know yet exactly who the attackers will be. All I know is that Fury is seeking an army and a way to travel between realms."

"Fury?" Demeter asked, bewildered. "Who's Fury?"

Athena's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean 'a way to travel between realms?'"

Loki screwed his eyes shut, cursing himself silently for not breaking the news more gently. He opened his eyes and forced himself to speak. "Fury is the leader of SHIELD, an organization dedicated to protecting the Earth...or at least doing what he believes to be in the Earth's best interests." He paused. "A _mortal _organization." He expected the room to dissolve into whispers, but instead it went so quiet, so eerily silent, that he almost wondered if he wasn't listening to one of his doubles, mysteriously located in a graveyard or some equally grim place.

Aphrodite broke the silence. "I'm confused. I thought you wanted us to _fight _these people."

"No, Aphrodite." Athena said. "You're not confused. Let the record show that for once in your life you have successfully followed the thread of a conversation to its logical conclusion. Bravo."

Aphrodite flashed a brilliant smile. "Aw, _thank you_, Athena!"

Athena gritted her teeth. "My pleasure," she said in a stilted voice. She turned her attention to Loki. "_You_, on the other hand, must be confused or else suffering from a head injury. Neither the Asgardians nor the Olympians have ever gone to war _against _humans. We defend them from external invasions. We intervened in _one _of their wars, and it was the worst decision any of us ever made. But to declare war against a mortal…It's…it's…"

"Let me guess," Loki interrupted sharply. "_Madness_."

"Hardly," she sneered. "If you were mad, I could pardon the absurdity of your decision. But this is beyond madness. It's sheer stupidity."

"That will do, Athena."

She scowled, but bowed her head. "As you wish, Father."

As Athena sat down, Zeus stood up again. He stared at Loki intently. "Is this true?" he asked. "Is that what you are asking?"

"Yes," Loki said.

Zeus' expression darkened. "Then there is no need to waste any more time." He began to leave the room. "I reject your proposal. This council is concluded."

"Wait!" Loki swallowed heavily. "There's more."

Zeus stopped in mid-step. "Go on."

"Balder has escaped from Hel."

Zeus turned around. "How did he get out?"

"I don't know."

"Is he in league with this Fury fellow?"

"I don't know. If he is, Thor won't just be facing Fury and his men, but an army of the dead, and whoever helps Fury travel between realms."

"If not?"

Loki sighed. "Thor will still most likely end up facing an army of the dead," he admitted reluctantly. "Balder and I did not part on good terms."

Zeus didn't answer for a very long time. He finally walked past Loki without saying anything. It was not until he was re-seated in his throne that he condescended to speak. "You certainly have a way of making a mess of things, Loki Odinson." He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "It would be unjust to make a controversial decision of this magnitude on my own. Olympians…" He gestured. The others took their seats. When Hephaestus managed to seat himself—leaning on one of his drones for assistance—Zeus spoke to the room at large once more. "The time has come to make a decision," he said in a booming voice. "We must vote on whether or not we are to help Thor and his wife by fighting against their enemies, whoever they may be. Before we begin, one person from each camp shall make a brief statement summarizing why they believe their choice to be the wisest. Will one opposing Loki's request please rise?"

Athena was out of her seat before Zeus had completely finished his sentence. "Olympus has always been a force for the protection of mankind," she said baldly. "I see no reason why the whims of one Asgardian should suddenly negate our traditional standing. Furthermore, it would be a waste of our energies. Why should we fight and suffer injuries at the hands of the undead—injuries of the sort that take decades to fully heal, as we learned during the Séance Crisis approximately a century ago—to preserve the life of one who is, if the prophecy holds true, doomed to bring about the end of the world? It's absurd."

"Thank you, Athena. Will one supportive of Loki's request please rise?"

"It's been too long since we had a halfway decent war," Ares growled. "_Let there be bloodshed once more!"_

Zeus made a half-hearted gesture as though considering ejecting Ares from the hall. "Will someone supportive of Loki's request _besides _Ares please rise?"

Nobody stood up.

"Anybody?" Zeus repeated expectantly. "Anybody willing to provide an explanation for why someone might be in favor of Loki's suggestion?"

"If I may…"

Everyone turned to look at a woman in the shadows, sitting alone in the corner by a small, barely lit fire.

"Of course you may, Hestia," Zeus said, his face softening. "We are always glad to have your input, even if you usually choose to refrain from politics."

Hestia smiled nervously. "I don't want to take sides," she said hesitantly, "but I think that some of you should maybe, possibly consider voting in favor of Loki's request."

"And why is that?" Zeus prompted.

Hestia bit her lip. "It's just…it seems as though whenever anybody tries to interfere with prophecies, their attempts to prevent it from coming true are what make it come to fulfillment. Maybe we shouldn't let Fury try to kill the boy." Athena scoffed audibly. Hestia winced. "Or…or maybe I'm just being silly," she amended. Her face crumpled. "I'll just put more wood on the fire," she said, looking miserable.

"Hestia," Apollo called after her. She stopped to look at him. He smiled. "Good point."

She smiled shakily. "Thank you."

"An excellent point by Hestia," Zeus concluded. "And, as usual, a meticulous and well-reasoned argument by Athena. I believe," he said, eyeing everyone in the room, "it is time to vote. If you are supportive of Loki's request, say 'yay.' If you are opposed to it, say 'nay.' Hera."

"Yay."

"Poseidon?"

"Nay."

"Dionysus?"

"Nay."

"Apollo?"

"Yay."

"Artemis?"

"Yay."

"Athena?"

"Nay."

"Ares?"

"Yay."

"Aphrodite?"

"Nay."

"Hephaestus?"

"Nay."

"Demeter?"

"Yay."

"Myself. Nay. It is decided, then. We shall _not _be defending Thor against Fury and his army, however, given the closeness of the vote, I think it is safe to say that we will not be aiding Fury either. Olympus remains neutral. Council dismissed."

* * *

><p>Loki's ears rang as he left the hall, a dull pain beginning to gnaw at his temples. This wasn't what he had wanted. This wasn't the plan. What would he do now? He had been counting upon the Olympians for aid. Without their help…<p>

He saw a suit with a golden head moving away from him in his peripheral vision.

"Hermes!" he called.

The blond man stopped and turned around, his eyes widening. "Loki," he said cheerily, "I didn't notice you." He held out his hand welcomingly. "It's good to see you again, old friend."

Loki stared at him coolly. He left Hermes' proffered hand hanging. "You're out of practice, Hermes," he said. "Pity. You used to be one of the only halfway decent liars I knew."

Hermes' smile slowly faded. "Ah," he said quietly. He lowered his hand. "I take it the decision did not go as you hoped."

"No," said Loki flatly. "It didn't. No thanks to you."

"No thanks to me?" Hermes repeated incredulously. "You lost the vote, Loki. Even if I had voted in your favor, it only would have ended in a tie, in which case it would be decided by Zeus, who voted _against _you."

"Come now, Hermes, I know you better than that," Loki snapped. "You once argued a case so persuasively that you were buried up to your _neck_ in pebbles. Despite the fact that you were _clearly _guilty of the crime of which you were accused, you managed to persuade Olympus of your innocence so thoroughly that they were all willing to vote against _Hera_. If you had simply testified in my favor…" He pressed his lips together, feeling as though he might explode. He could almost feel his blood boiling. He pounded a fist against the marble wall. "Damn it, Hermes, I could have won that decision. Unanimously. I could have won for my brother and his family."

"What makes you so sure I would have testified in your _favor_?" Hermes eyes flashed dangerously.

Loki sputtered, taken aback. "In my…What are you talking about? We're friends. Why wouldn't you argue in my—in _Thor's_ favor?"

"Have you ever watched someone that you love die?" Hermes said suddenly.

Loki froze. An unbidden image of Darcy sprawled unconscious on the floor of Medea's lair flashed before his eyes. He shook his head to clear his mind. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Hermes whirled around. "Everything," he growled. His hair suddenly thickened and turned a dark, curly gray, the planes of his youthful face splintering into wrinkles before Loki's eyes. "It has everything to do with it," he said harshly as his suit suddenly turned into a mortal jogging outfit.

Loki's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "Oh, no—" he began quietly.

"Yes—"

"Hermes, please don't start—"

"_Don't start_?" Hermes' voice became gravelly. His eyes started shining. "I never stopped," he whispered. "And I never will stop. _I lost my son_." He jabbed a finger into his own chest with every word and began to sob. "I knew what was going to happen to him. I saw it, before anyone else did, before he was even born. And I let him do it. I let him live in agony, I let him do horrible things, I didn't save him. I couldn't save him." He shuddered. "I shouldn't have let him live. It would have been better that he never existed."

"You don't mean that," said Loki.

"Yes, I do." Hermes shot Loki a glare, his eyes cold and flinty. "And I wouldn't wish what I've been through on _anyone_ else. Not Thor, not Ares, not even Cronus himself." He collapsed, his shoulders giving way as though a great weight had been lifted. He stared at the wall before him without really seeing. "Leave me."


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Read and review! Soundtrack rec: "Riders of Rohan" by Howard Shore. ("Isn't your version of Vanaheim basically just Whiteru—I mean, Rohan?" "Why, yes. Yes, it is.")**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Darcy started panting as she tried to keep pace with the others. She began to silently curse her mortality when she remembered: she wasn't a mortal anymore. _Maybe the super-strength thing only happens to the guys. _Her ponderings were abruptly cut off when she caught her leg on the edge of a jagged boulder. She tumbled to the ground.

"Auuuughh!" She pulled her knees up to her chest instinctively, clutching at her calf as if hoping she could stifle the searing pain.

Rogers staggered to a stop. "Darcy, you okay?"

She glanced down at her leg. Her dress was stained scarlet and beginning to stick to her skin. _So much blood…_She suddenly felt very nauseous.

"I don't know if I can walk," she muttered.

The air rang with the sound of the horn once again. Thor and Jane looked up immediately, turning their attention to Aelwyd.

The doors of the largest building—a great hall in the middle of the town—swung open, spilling out a small army of men on horseback.

Stark put Jane down and raised his arm, the palm of his hand glowing bright blue. "Should we be worried?"

Thor shook his head. "Lower your weapon," he said firmly, pushing Stark's arm down to his side. "The Vanir are friends, not foe."

"Why are they blowing horns and sending cavalry to meet us?" Jane pointed out. "They couldn't be on Fury's side, could they?"

"Not likely. Still…" He drew his sword and strode forth towards the approaching horsemen. "Wait here," he told the others.

"Not like I have much choice," Darcy grumbled, trying and failing to erase the sick feeling from her mind so she could heal her leg before it got infected. _Can gods get infections? _

Thor stopped about fifty feet in front of his companions. An instant later, the horsemen crested the hill and swarmed around him in a flurry of hoof-beats and the snorting sound of horses' breath. One of the horsemen, the leader—a slim figure in steely gray armor with a helmet shaped like a peacock and a billowing cape of royal blue—rode forward to greet him.

"Declare yourself," the figure said in a pompous voice that, for reasons Darcy couldn't identify, sounded _off. _

The corners of Thor's mouth twitched. "Come now," he said in the most serious voice he could muster. "Has it really been so long that you do not remember me: Thor, son of Odin? Or has that ridiculous helmet made you so vain that you can only remember your own name…" His serious façade slipped for a moment, allowing the brief flash of a smile to break through. "_Ealyse?_"

"Damn," the figure snapped. As he yanked off his helmet, Darcy realized why his voice had sounded off: _he _was a _she_, and a rather pretty one at that. Ealyse glared at Thor. "How did you know it was me?" she asked, running a hand through her wispy, ash-brown hair to free it from its helmet shape. "My handmaidens wear the head-dress just as often as I."

"Do your companions make a habit of wearing ceremonial armor into combat?"

"No, they don't." Ealyse sighed. "Just promise me that my father won't hear of this."

"And break my vow of secrecy? I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." Ealyse glanced at the ground, her gray eyes meeting Darcy's. "Darcy, wife of Loki," she said. She looked at Jane. "Jane, wife of Thor. I heard news of your respective marriages, although I wasn't able to attend myself. I congratulate you both." Jane beamed and dipped into a curtsy. Darcy, still nursing her sore leg, just bobbed her head politely. Ealyse turned to the others. Her eyes narrowed. "Who are these gentlemen? I do not know them."

"They mean you no harm. This is Tony Stark, known to some as the Man of Iron."

Stark began to protest. Rogers elbowed him in the ribs. _Not worth it, _he mouthed. Stark crossed his arms waspishly, but didn't say a word.

"The man next to him is Steve Rogers, but he is also known as Captain America."

"Captain?" Ealyse's eyes lit up. "You're a military man, then?"

Rogers' face went still for a moment, his eyes seeming to look at something very far away as if he stood on the far side of a tunnel with a bright, beautiful something at the other end. "Not for a long time," he said stiffly. "That was many years ago."

Ealyse giggled. It was a bright, melodic sound like wind-chimes on a rainy afternoon in the spring—a sudden and disconcerting departure from the armored warrior she had been only seconds before. "Oh, don't be silly, you can't be that old."

Rogers made a face that managed to approximate a smile without capturing any of his usual warmth. "You'd be surprised." He cleared his throat. "It was more of an honorary title, anyway. I was more of a poster boy than anything. Not like the real soldiers…"

"Yeah, I'm not really up for chit-chat right now," Stark burst out, "so why don't we cut to the chase and follow Eloise here back to wherever it is she came from."

"Aelwyd," she said coolly.

"Aelwyd. So—"

"And my name is Ealyse."

"Sure thing, kid. So!" Stark clapped his hands and rubbed them together manically. "How far is it to this Aelwyd place, because I could seriously use some calories right around now."

"More to the point," Jane interrupted, glaring at him, "Darcy's hurt and we want to know what that horn thing was about."

Ealyse nodded. "Your requests are easily accommodated." She put her helmet back on. "Go; follow these men back to Aelwyd."

"Won't you be joining us?" asked Rogers.

"I will, very soon," Ealyse said, sounding slightly breathless even through her helmet. "But I must change into attire more suitable for a princess welcoming honored guests."

"You snuck out without Daddy's permission, so you're crawling back in your bedroom window instead of going in the front door," said Stark.

Ealyse turned to face him. "You speak brashly. Be grateful that you are a friend of Thor's. Otherwise your desire for sustenance would be sated by the steel of my blade."

"Sword-swallowing." Stark smiled. "One of my favorite past-times."

Ealyse stared at him. After a moment without reply, she spun her horse about and dug her spurs in. "Yah!"

As Thor hoisted Darcy onto the back of one of the horses, Stark turned to Rogers conversationally. "No really," he said as if he expected Rogers to channel Ealyse and continue their conversation. "It's up there with good booze and bikinis."

"Come on," Rogers said with a sigh.

Stark narrowed his eyes. "I bet you don't even know what a bikini _is_, do you?"

* * *

><p>If Darcy thought Thor's smile from meeting Ealyse could not get any wider, she was wrong. When the gates of Aelwyd opened, revealing a bald man with narrow eyes, his face looked about ready to split in two from his grin.<p>

"Relygyr!" he shouted from a few dozen feet away. "It has been too long!"

"Thor, Odin-son!"

The two men collided in an embrace. Relygyr laughed like an uncle greeting his favorite nephew. "How are your parents?" he asked as they broke apart, still shaking hands. "Well, I hope?"

"Quite well." Thor took Jane by the hand and guided her forward.

Relygyr's eyes widened slightly. "Ah, is this the mortal that seized Thor's heart from the clutches of a half-dozen Aesir maids?"

Jane flushed bright pink.

"Yes," Thor chuckled, "this is Jane Foster, my wife and…"

Relygyr's smile faded. "And mother of your unborn child," he supplied.

Thor nodded.

Relygyr sighed. A forced smile spread across his face. "Well, let us get inside. We have much to discuss. And people to introduce." He eyed Rogers and Stark warily for a moment before turning to signal his guards. "Follow me, please."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Hello everyone! My immense apologies for not updating in such a long time, I really hope to keep a faster pace on the story from now on.**

**As a slightly related note, if anyone is interesting in helping me tremendously by acting as a co-writer for the remainder of the story, please shoot me a private message! I'll explain the what/why/how of it in my reply to you. **

**Reviews are my lifeblood!**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"You came at a bad time, I'm afraid." Relygyr scowled as he pressed a small handful of dried leaves into his pipe. "Around the time of your arrival, one of the jotun arrived in our realm."

"A jotun?" Thor repeated blankly. "In Vanaheim? How? Loki taught them only how to travel between Asgard and Jotunheim, on top of—"

"Their prior knowledge of how to travel from Jotunheim to Midgard. Yes, I know."

"Maybe they figured it out themselves," Darcy suggested, looking up from where a blond Vanir woman crouched, bandaging her leg. "Their new leader seemed pretty bright."

Relygyr took a puff on his pipe. "Bright enough to outsmart Loki?"

"Bright enough to outsmart Loki where Darcy or Thor are involved," said Jane.

"Of course," Relygyr said musingly. "His mind clouded by emotion. That would explain a great deal. I had been wondering how Loki started to behave so impulsively; it's not like him at all."

"But it still doesn't answer the question," Ealyse pointed out. "Is this General really smart enough to figure out how to travel between realms on his own?"

"I think so," Darcy said.

Jane grimaced. "It seems pretty likely, given what we know."

"Damn." Relygyr ran a hand agitatedly through his tangled beard.

Ealyse's eyes lit up. "This is our chance, Father! There has only been one jotun so far. Let us gather our army while we have the chance so that we may strike against them the moment more arrive!"

"No." Relygyr shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. I will not lead our people into war."

"Lead them into war? Father, we are not the instigators here. They have sent a scout to our realm unannounced and uninvited. How are we to interpret that if not as an act of war?"

"But why would they do such a thing? Why Vanaheim? Why now? We have done nothing to anger them since the Great War. Besides," he added, "the jotun have not yet fully recovered from their last skirmish. They lost men at the destruction of the Bifrost. They lost even more in the Battle of Asgard. Brilliant general or no, it would be folly for the jotun to mount an attack on Vanaheim unless their lives depended on it."

"Plus it's harder to invade someplace than to defend it," Darcy said. "Isn't there a rule for how many guys you need to guarantee an invading victory?"

"About three times as many," said Relygyr, nodding. "More if the invaders are unfamiliar with the territory."

"The jotun aren't exactly known for their intellect," Ealyse muttered sullenly.

"Perhaps not," said Thor, "but your father is right. The jotun have no reason to attack Vanaheim."

Ealyse groaned and threw her arms up. "Ugh. You _never_ want to fight back against _anyone_." She stormed out of the room, tossing her hair as she left.

Relygyr sighed heavily. "That's my daughter for you." He stuck his pipe back into his mouth and turned to Thor. "Well, I think you and I are in agreement, at the very least. The jotun are no threat to Vanaheim at present. We'll deal with them later. I think a more pressing question might be: why are _you_ here?"

"Do you want the short version or the long one?"

Relygyr exhaled an entire mouthful of smoke all at once. "Oh dear," he mumbled. "It's one of _those_ stories." He suppressed a smile beneath his beard and he busied himself by stuffing his already quite-full pipe. "If you or Loki have been betting with the dwarves again," he said sternly, "I want nothing to do with it."

"I would rather deal with a thousand angry dwarves than the problem that faces me now," said Thor.

Relygyr stopped pretending to fill his pipe. He set it down on the table mindlessly, where its contents at once crumbled apart. He looked up at Thor, disconcerted by the severity in his voice. "Thor, what is it that you've done? Tell me everything."

"It's the Norns."

It was a very long time before Relygyr said anything. He merely stood there: pale and growing ever paler until his skin was an uncanny shade of gray.

"The Norns?" he repeated. "Are you certain?'

"I saw them with my own eyes. They made a prophecy about Jane's—about myson."

"What about Ealyse? Did they speak of her again?"

"No. No one else was mentioned."

Relygyr was visibly relieved. His shoulders went limp and he nearly staggered to the table for support. He took a moment to compose himself, leaning on the table like a cane, his breath shallow. "And what of your son?" he said eventually. "Did they declare his fate?"

"They say—"

Thor began shaking, suddenly so overcome with emotion that his eyes began brimming with tears. He opened and closed his mouth helplessly a few times, but no sound came out.

Jane strode over and placed a hand on his shoulder. With a tremendous sniffling noise, Thor raised his chin to once more look Relygyr in the eye.

"They say that he will bring about Ragnarok," he said thickly. "Jane, Loki, and Darcy fled Asgard when Fury issued his ultimatum. Stark, Rogers, and I escaped."

"Fury?"

"He's the guy in charge of a protector's organization on earth called SHIELD," Darcy interjected. "Thor's a part of it."

Relygyr nodded. "I see. And this Fury is someone you cannot defeat in a fight?"

"On the contrary," Thor said sourly, "I could defeat him in my sleep. He is a mere mortal with neither special powers nor suits of magic armor to protect him. I chose not to fight him. It would not have been honorable to do so."

"Of course not." Relygyr took a long puff of his pipe, shooting a large cloud of smoke clear across the room as he exhaled. "So you have come here to hide from this…Fury."

"Yes. And whoever he brings with him."

"I see."

"There is more. Balder has escaped from Hel's realm, along with many other souls."

Relygyr stiffened, his eyes wide. "Is he with Fury?"

"We don't know. But one thing is for certain: whoever he is with, however he got out, his first quarrel will be with Loki."

"Who, I take it, will be joining us shortly?"

"Yes."

"Ymir's bones."

Thor's brow furrowed. "If you do not wish to be involved in our conflict, we will take shelter elsewhere."

"No," Relygyr said firmly. "You will remain here. And I promise that I will provide you with any assistance that I am capable of giving."

Thor and Jane nearly collapsed with relief. "Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me. I am merely doing what is right. You forget that I am a father too. I know what it is to love someone so unconditionally that you would risk not only your life but the safety of an entire nation to protect them. If I were in your position…if Ealyse were subjected to the same horrible prophecy…" Relygyr swallowed heavily. "I would want someone to help me."

Jane started to say something, but was cut off by a sudden bout of decidedly female screaming from the next room.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Everyone turned to look at the source of the noise.

Relygyr frowned. "I _know_ that voice."

Thor's eyes blazed. "As do I," he said, storming towards the doorway.

"Ealyse?" Jane asked.

"No." Thor raised his hammer. "Sif."

The others glanced at each other, mildly alarmed, before following Thor from the room.

* * *

><p>The first thing Darcy saw was Sif, almost unrecognizable in a scarlet dress, her dark hair hanging in ringlets around her shoulders. The next thing she noticed was that Sif was shouting at a copper-skinned man Darcy did not recognize, punctuating every word with a solid <em>whack<em> from her purse.

"You vile, lecherous, disgusting little pig!" she shrieked.

The man grinned shamelessly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; Darcy noticed for the first time that his lips were smeared with something red that looked suspiciously like Sif's lipstick. "Oink."

Sif curled her fists at her sides and glowered at the man. "Where is a sword when you need one?" she growled at no one in particular.

"I have a hammer," Thor said, holding up Mjolnir helpfully.

Jane dived for his wrists and struggled to push his hands—and the hammer—out of Sif's reach. "That _won't _be necessary!" she said hurriedly. She looked pointedly at Darcy, who was hiding a smile behind her hands. _Back me up, _Jane mouthed. Darcy shrugged, pretending not to understand what Jane was saying.

Jane slumped in desperation and allowed her grip on Thor's wrist to slacken. In a split second, Sif had leapt across the room and snatched Mjolnir from Thor's grasp. She raised the hammer over her head and was about to bring it down upon the man's skull when—

"What is the meaning of this?"

Everyone froze. In unison, they turned to look at Relygyr standing in the doorframe.

"Sif, Coyote, explain yourselves."

Coyote gingerly pushed Sif's hammer-wielding hand away from his head. "I don't know what's wrong with her, sir, I swear. We went on a date and I tried to kiss her goodnight."

"You call that _kissing_?"

"Yeah, wouldn't you?"

"You tried to shove your tongue down my throat!"

"Alright, if it's not kissing what is it? What words would you use?"

Sif laughed hollowly. "Oh, believe me: there are plenty of words I could use to describe what you just did. Rest assured, 'kissing' is not one of them."

"Lady Sif," Relygyr said, "I don't mean to embarrass you, since this is obviously a somewhat delicate subject, but if you were not interested in—er, whatever you would call what he just tried to do—"

"Kissing," Coyote muttered.

"Violating," Sif hissed.

"—_interacting with your mouths_," Relygyr interjected, "then why did you go on a 'date' with him? As I understand it, that custom is a mortal form of courtship."

Sif crossed her arms. "Coyote," she said, spitting out his name as if it were a disease or some foul-smelling insect, "agreed to join forces with Thor and defend against any who might attack him, his wife, or his unborn child. As payment, he demanded that I go to dinner with him."

Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling the deal wasn't your idea?"

Sif scowled at her.

"Wait," Darcy said, "don't tell me…_Loki's_ idea."

"Excellent deduction," Sif said sourly. "Really, you ought to get a medal."

"He has managed to make contact with other deities, then?" Thor asked.

Sif's expression visibly softened. "Obviously, he's made contact with Coyote," she said, "and I took the liberty of informing the Warriors Three, but I haven't heard from him since he came to see me."

"Did he mention who else he was getting in touch with?" Jane said.

"No. But I would assume he's making contact with the Olympians, at the very least, as well as a few of his trickster friends."

Coyote frowned. "What trickster friends?" he asked. "Besides me and Hermes, they're all gone. I know for a fact that Anansi and Eshu are dead, Raven lost his powers when he was exiled, and none of the others have been seen or heard from in centuries." His frown suddenly deepened. "Except…" He raised an eyebrow. "That's strange."

"What's strange?"

He rubbed his eyes. "I have this odd feeling, like there's a fog over my mind…like there's a word or a name on the tip of my tongue but I can't quite find it."

"What'd I miss?" Stark meandered into the room, bleary-eyed and shirtless. He sniffed absently and stared into space sleepily. After a few seconds, he turned to look at Coyote. "Should I remember this guy?"

"Coyote, Tony Stark. Tony Stark, Coyote."

"Yo."

Coyote smiled warily. "Is that ale I smell?"

Stark shrugged. "I dunno. It's booze and it's good, that's all I need to know."

Coyote laughed. "Now here's a man who has his priorities in order." The two men shook hands.

Stark squinted at Coyote's face. "Hey, buddy," he said, gesturing vaguely at his mouth, "you've got something on your…"

Coyote jerked his chin towards Sif.

Stark blinked a few times. "Oh." He nodded in approval. "Nice catch."

"Tony, that'd better be _fish_ you're referring to!"

Stark rolled his eyes. "Will you get your panties out of a knot, Cap?" he shouted over his shoulder. "It's not 1940 anymore!"

"1940 or not," Rogers said, walking in, "talking about a lady like that…is…" He trailed off suddenly as he stared, transfixed, at Sif's face. As if in slow motion, he made his way towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Rude," he finished awkwardly, his voice hoarse.

Sif seemed to realize that Rogers was staring at _her_; she contorted her lips into an uncomfortable smile that looked more like a wince.

Rogers swallowed. "Peggy?" he said quietly.

"What?"

At the sound of Sif's voice, Rogers blinked rapidly several times in a row. He shook his head as though he were waking up from a dream.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, straightening. "I don't know what came over me…"

Sif nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I'd say you've had too much of whatever your friend is drinking."

"Which, for the record, Vanir guys, is some _high quality shit_!"

Neither Sif nor Rogers gave any indication that they had heard Stark's interruption.

"I'm Steve Rogers," he said, extending a hand to Sif.

She gave him a funny look, her eyes darting between his hand and his face several times like she thought he was playing a joke on her. After a few seconds, she cautiously raised his hand to her lips and kissed it.

Rogers jumped back as though he'd been burned.

Stark and Darcy looked at each other, stifling grins. Darcy let out a snort. The floodgates were opened: both of them began to laugh hysterically, Darcy doubled over with giggles, Stark wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"What did I do?" Sif asked frantically.

Rogers rubbed the back of his neck. "Women don't normally greet men by kissing their hands," he explained.

Sif glared at him. "You tricked me!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Well, what did you expect me to do with your hand?"

"I expected…oh, here. Let me show you."

He shook her hand.

"Oh." She coughed. "I'm sorry," she said, "I thought you were mocking me, since I'm not familiar with Midgardian customs."

Rogers looked horrified. "Never. That would be cruel. I would never do such a thing to anyone, Lady…Lady…"

"Sif."

"Sif." Smiling, he took her hand and kissed it.

She gave him a strange look. "I thought you said…"

"Women don't greet men by kissing their hands," Rogers explained hurriedly. "But men can greet women by kissing their hands."

"Why not just use a handshake?" Sif asked. "If you have a form of greeting that works in all circumstances, regardless of sex, why not use that all the time?"

"_Thank you, _Sif," Stark said. "I've been trying to explain this to him for ages."

"It's a sign of respect," Rogers mumbled.

"It's outdated!"

"It's chivalrous!"

"PUCK!"

Everyone turned to look at Coyote.

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "I think the word you're searching for is fu—"

"No, no," he said, waving a hand impatiently, "I mean _Puck_. That's who I forgot earlier." He shook his head. "Sneaky little bastard. He must have tampered with my memory so I'd forget about his debt."

"Debt?"

Coyote rolled his eyes. "We made a bet, about five years ago. He wagered a thousand pots of gold that I couldn't go a year without using magic. I took him up on it, and he lost the bet…" He lowered his voice. "Mostly."

Jane scoffed. "What do you mean, mostly?"

"Alright, alright, I might have fudged a little bit during the year, but only when it would have been immoral to _not_ use magic."

"Odin knows you're terribly concerned with morality," Sif muttered.

"Funny, sweetheart. Anyway, _on the books _I won the bet, and Puck paid me his thousand pots of gold. Only one problem: he paid me in leprechaun gold. It all vanished when I woke up the next morning. Now the sneak's refusing to give me what he owes. More than that, he's using magic to make me forget he ever owed me." He waved a finger emphatically. "It's _dishonesty_, is what it is. It's not right."

"So Puck's still alive?"

"Sure, he's alive. Won't be much longer once I get my hands on him, but at the moment…"

"The last I heard, he was wandering around Ireland," Thor said.

Coyote snickered. "You law-abiding citizens. You're always two steps behind the action, going where things are instead of where they're going to be."

"Then tell us where he's really hiding, smartass," Darcy snapped. "Is it somewhere where Loki can find him and ask for his help?"

"Loki knows. In fact, he's probably meeting with him right now."

"Where?"

"Woodside."

**AN: Reviews make my day! Seriously, it's pathetic: lately every time I get a review, it's the highlight of my day.**

**In other (read: slightly related) news, if anyone reading this is interested in helping me write upcoming chapters, a PM or an email would be fantastic. My email is "perpetual palindrome yahoo . com" without the spaces. In particular, there's someone whose story I've been reading lately who I'd be thrilled to write with, but who I can't contact via PM. If you think that might be you, give me a buzz. **

***End Unnecessarily Long Author's Note***


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_Woodside, Queens_

"AN' STAY OUT!"

The trio of teenagers scowled sullenly at the waiter as they trudged down the alley away from the bar.

"You suck, Sleá," one of them shouted. The others chimed in, a chorus of half-hearted attempts at rebellion.

The waiter stepped off the doorstep into the alley. "I've had enough police trouble this month without all of you _minors_ comin' in and tryin' to buy beers at my pub! Now get out of here, before I call your parents. I've got _your _mother's number on speed dial, Flannery."

The other two laughed loudly at their companion's expense. Flannery just glowered. For a moment, he looked as though he might spit on the waiter's shoes. After a few seconds, he gave up.

"We'll be back, you know!"

"I'm quakin' in my boots. Shoo."

With a parting sneer, the teenagers left.

The waiter shook his head, alone in the alley at last. "Gits."

"I seem to recall _you_ doing far worse as a youth."

The waiter spun around. He squinted his brown eyes at a man he hadn't noticed moments earlier: a stranger, lounging against the wall of the alley. "Loki?"

Loki smiled a little as he stepped out from the shadows. "I haven't changed my name," he said. "You, on the other hand seem to change your name nearly as often as you change locations. What was it the boy called you?"

"Sleá. Croith Sleá, actually."

Loki chuckled. "Clever. You realize that if you met anyone who spoke Gaelic, your game would be over?"

"'Course I do. But since when do the Irish actually _speak_ Gaelic?"

"Fair enough." He paused. "Coyote's quite annoyed with you about the whole gambling incident."

Puck let out a laugh, his skin beginning to emit a faint golden glow as he lowered his glamour. "Finally stopped drinkin' long enough to realize I'd conned him, huh?"

"Mhm. He would like the money you owe him."

"I'm sure he would." Puck narrowed his eyes. "But that's not why you're here, is it?"

Loki sobered. "No."

"Well, you wouldn't come callin' just to give me news. I expect you'll be wantin' my help for something, then?"

"That just about sums it up."

Puck considered for a minute. "I'm in."

Loki sputtered. "What?"

"I'm in." Puck raised an eyebrow and glanced about. "I can't stand this pub nonsense. I went with it 'cause it was the only place an accent like mine wouldn't stand out so much; the tourists think it's just a charmin' part of the act, and the regulars are too drunk to question it. Even so…I don't know how long I can go with a name like 'Croith' and not get noticed…I really should pick something like 'Thomas' or 'Patrick' next time…" He stretched. "Where are we headed?"

"Vanaheim," Loki said automatically, still reeling slightly from the ease with which he had gotten Puck's help.

Puck's eyebrows rose halfway to his hairline. "Vanaheim? Now _that's_ a story you'll have to tell me on the way."

"Indeed it is. And I'll be curious to hear what you've been up to since you left Oberon's court."

Puck cackled. "Oh, bloody hell; wait till I tell you about my visit to Oregon…"

* * *

><p>"…and they renamed the neighborhood in my honor."<p>

Loki shook his head, grinning. "Unbelievable."

"Believe it." Puck suddenly deflated.

Loki frowned. He turned to look at Puck: his normally childlike face appeared gaunt and worried as they passed beneath a street lamp. "What?"

Puck shook his head. "Nothing. Just reminded me of somethin'…Stupid, really."

"What sort of something?"

"The day they renamed the neighborhood…I went to visit Oberon right after that happened—you know, tell him what'd happened over a pint—and he was gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"If rumor is to be believed, some exotic locale in another realm with a new mistress on his arm."

"Oh." Loki relaxed. "Well that's not strange at all," he said. "Oberon's always gallivanting around with women. I'd be more worried if he were travelling unaccompanied, frankly."

"No, but that's just it," Puck said. "Think about it, Loki, these things have always gone the same way, time after time, for centuries. Oberon finds an attractive mortal girl, feeds her fairy food 'til she loses her wits, toys with her for a while—"

"—Titania puts a stop to it and the cycle begins again," Loki finished. "I'm aware."

"Ah, but there's the rub," said Puck, raising a finger. "Titania _hasn't_ put a stop to it. Not this time. I wondered if she might be off on her own fling, so I asked around. Nothing. Nobody's heard a word out of her in weeks which, for a fairy who can't go two minutes without openin' her mouth—"

"—is odd."

"A bit, yeah."

Loki pursed his lips. "And nobody has any idea what she might be doing?"

"If they do, they're doin' a damn good job of keepin' it hushed up."

"That's very strange."

Puck chuckled and clapped Loki on the back. "Ah, she's a strange lady. I wouldn't worry too much about it. She's always doin' somethin' strange; she was bound to get somethin' done in secret eventually. So," he said, "you goin' to open a passage or you want me to do it?"

Loki waved his hand, his face still creased with worry as he thought about what Puck had told him. But as he stepped into the swirling abyss of colors, his heart did a little dance and he began to smile: in just a few moments, he would have Darcy in his arms again.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Jane let out a sharp hiss.

Darcy turned to look at her; the stack of wooden plates she had been levitating fell to the floor with a loud clattering sound.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine," Jane wheezed. She leaned against the wall for support and put a hand to her stomach gingerly. "He's started kicking, that's all."

Darcy stared at her in disbelief. "_That's_ kicking? I thought it was a good thing when moms talked about their kids kicking. You know, like a tickle or a little nudge or something."

Jane winced. "I think it is just a little nudge for most women. But _this _mommy," she said towards her stomach in a slightly breathless baby voice, "is married to the god of thunder. And she's going to have a strong little baby boy! Yes, she is…"

Darcy crossed her arms, shivering slightly as Jane finished cooing at her uterus.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

Jane laughed. "Are you serious? I was just about to put out the fire. I'm roasting."

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "That has got to be a pregnancy thing," she said. "I don't know what kind of mama-hormones you've got right now, but it is _freezing _in here."

A trumpet's blast rang through the air.

Darcy's heart skipped a bit. For an instant, she could have sworn she felt it leap in her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath, not to get too excited. Loki _might _be back, but then again, he might not.

"Another supporter?" Jane suggested.

"Probably," Darcy said. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason she felt that she might cry if Loki did not return soon.

* * *

><p>Loki's smile did not fade even as he tumbled through the multicolored chaos of the portal. It occurred to him that a year or two prior he might have scorned himself for grinning so idiotically. But then he remembered that he would see Darcy again, and he decided that he didn't particularly care.<p>

As they stepped out of the portal onto the solid land of Vanaheim, he saw Puck flinch in his peripheral vision.

"What?" he asked.

"Eh? Oh, nothin'," Puck said, shuffling his feet slightly.

"Nothing," Loki repeated.

"Alright," Puck admitted, annoyed, "I'm a bit worried Coyote might actually try to kill me this time."

"He wouldn't."

"He would."

"Tell him it was just a bit of fun."

"Oh, yeah," Puck said skeptically. "Your old standby. How'd that work out for you, last time you used it?"

"I...er…fell off the Bifrost." Loki grimaced. "_Jumped_, I should say."

"Well, then, there's your answer."

They were silent for a moment.

"In retrospect, it was the best thing that ever happened to me," Loki blurted out.

"Oh, _sure_."

"No, really."

"Yeah. I'll bet."

"I never would have met Darcy if I hadn't jumped off that bridge. Who knows?" Loki said innocently. "Maybe after Coyote tries to kill you, some lovely Vanir maid will have to patch you up in the infirmary."

"_Loki_…"

"Alright. It's your loss." Loki put his hands up innocently.

After a few seconds in silence, he peered at Puck out of the corner of his eye.

"I hear Thealyn is—"

"Don't."

"Alright."

"DARCY!"

Loki looked up instinctively at the sound of that name. Jane had somehow waddled to the front steps before Darcy and was shouting over her shoulder.

He heard Darcy's voice from somewhere in the hall. "Is it him?"

"Yes, it's him!" Jane yelled. "He's back!"

The front doors flew open with a _bang_. Standing in the doorframe was Darcy, looking flushed, the wind twisting her hair into a tangled mess. She sprinted down the front steps faster than Loki had ever seen her run before.

He hurried to meet her with open arms, and they collided with each other in an instinctive embrace.

Loki kissed her fiercely. When they broke apart, he found that his cheeks hurt slightly from smiling so much. But he could not see how his joy could possibly compare to Darcy's. She didn't simply beam: she glowed. His memory of her had not done her justice. Everything about her seemed somehow radiant, her cheeks and lips rosy from the cool wind, her eyes shining and bright.

"God, I've missed you," Darcy said, throwing her arms around Loki's neck and burrowing her face in his chest.

"I've missed you too, love."

Relygyr and Thor came out to greet him, but it all passed in a daze to Loki. He felt like he was drunk on life; the only ting that stood fast in his memory was the sight of Darcy's face, overjoyed to see him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he might have seen a flash of rainbow-colored light. But perhaps it was just his mind, overwhelmed with joy.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Short chapter. Sorry things have been slow and the chapters have been so short; there's going to be a plot explosion in the next installment and I want it to be perfect.  
><strong>

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Loki mindlessly ran his thumb across Darcy's knee, his eyelids threatening to slide shut. In the wake of his long journey, he had elected to skip dinner in the main hall in favor of retreating to his and Darcy's room with handfuls of fruit "borrowed" from the kitchens downstairs. Loki had sprawled, exhausted, across Darcy's lap as they began talking. Somewhere in the middle of his Coyote story, Darcy started stroking Loki's hair, which did nothing to alleviate the warm, sleepy feeling spreading through his bones.

Just as he was about to doze off, Darcy broke the silence. "What happened with Hermes?"

"Hm?"

"Nobody from Olympus agreed to help you. What happened? I thought you and Hermes were bros."

Loki smiled weakly. "Interesting way of putting it," he said. He sighed and sat up, rubbing a hand across his face. "He didn't want to help me."

"Well, I figured that part out," Darcy said. "I meant, why didn't he want to help you?"

Loki grimaced. "Hermes was...unsympathetic to Jane and Thor's cause."

Darcy blinked, not understanding. "Okay..."

"He lost his son," said Loki, before she could ask any more questions.

Darcy's face crumpled. "Oh," she said in a small voice.

"There was a prophecy," he explained, "about his son, Luke. He tried to prevent its coming-true, but there was nothing he could do. His son became evil, possessed by a being known as Kronos who threatened to take over the world as we know it."

"What happened?"

"He almost succeeded," said Loki simply. "New York was nearly destroyed." Loki swallowed. "But he fought back."

"Who?" Darcy asked. "Hermes?"

"No. Luke. When confronted with the girl he loved, he managed to regain control of his senses long enough to tell his old friends how to stop Kronos."

Darcy smiled. "That doesn't sound too bad. Sounds like a bedtime story. You know: love conquers all."

"I'm afraid not," he said. "Luke was killed. It was the only way."

"You mean he turned good before he died, even though he knew that he would be killed?"

"As you may recall," Loki pointed out, "it has been done before."

Darcy shivered. "Don't remind me." Loki felt her arms wrap tightly around his waist, as if by holding on to him she protect him from being put in harm's way. "I can't even imagine how hard that must be," she continued after a short pause.

He frowned. "How so?"

"I mean...I know how it feels to lose someone you love. But I can't imagine losing a child, how painful that would be."

Loki rested his chin atop Darcy's head. "Nor can I." He kissed her hair. "I'm rather tired from my journey, love. Tell you about Puck tomorrow?"

"Yep," Darcy said. She leaned up to kiss him, and then stood up. "I'm going to get changed," she said.

Loki nodded. As Darcy went into the bath chamber next to their room, he yanked back the covers, magicked his armor into a pair of pants, and sprawled out on the bed. He lay still with his eyes closed for a long moment. He breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of Darcy's perfume that lingered on the pillow.

His armor…

His eyes opened suddenly.

_Going to get changed_, Darcy had said. Why would she want or need to go into the next room to put on her sleep attire when she could simply use magic?

"Loki…"

He sat up and turned to look at the doorway to the bath chamber. He swallowed. Darcy _had_ gotten changed, but what she was wearing was _definitely _not meant for sleeping.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Despite appearances, this chapter will NOT be veering into M-rated territory. I have something better up my sleeve.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Darcy did a little twirl. "You likey?"

Loki blinked several times, trying to straighten out his thoughts into something resembling a coherent sentence.

"I like," he said thickly. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, uh…Maybe you misheard me, love. We stopped talking because I was tired."

"I know what tired means," she said, pouting. (Loki screwed his eyes shut. _Why in Odin's name did she have to pout?_) "But you're never going to fall asleep when you're this tense."

"Darcy, I don't object to your attire. Actually," he continued, his mouth seeming to produce words independently of his common sense, "I have a great appreciation for your, er, more _interesting_ choices in clothing. But there is a great deal to be done tomorrow…oof."

He opened his eyes, startled, as Darcy mashed her lips against his.

"Darcy," he said in a very muffled voice, "could we postpone this? I don't think I have the energy to reciprocate your—"

She broke away and pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him. "Loki," she said, "a king doesn't have to reciprocate his subject's affections. You don't have to do anything for me." She leaned in so their noses threatened to bump together. "_King _Loki."

Loki froze. Something was wrong. He hadn't heard that title in a very long time. The last time he had heard Darcy speak like that, she had been under the influence of the Apple. Struck by a sudden thought, he looked into Darcy's eyes. What he found staring back at him were not the familiar rings of deep sapphire, but a pair of icy blue eyes so pale they were almost see-through.

All at once, everything fell into place.

He _knew_ those eyes, and they weren't Darcy's.

Loki forced a crooked smile, pretending that nothing had happened.

"I like the sound of that," he said in he best imitation of a 'husky' voice he could muster in his slightly panicked state. He held Darcy's face against his and attacked her lips with his teeth and tongue, ignoring the roiling, sickening revulsion building in the pit of his stomach. He broke away from her lips with an audible popping sound, panting slightly from the effort. "Although," he said breathlessly, backing Darcy into the wall, "I feel that I suddenly have the energy to reciprocate-"

Darcy's back smacked against the wall, pinned there by Loki's arms. She smiled wickedly, apparently under the impression that Loki had given in.

Loki's smile vanished abruptly. "-_brother_," he snarled.

He wrapped his hands around Darcy's throat in a choke-hold. For a horrifying second, he thought he might be mistaken; perhaps it really _was_ Darcy after all.

But then she began to laugh in a deep, masculine voice that was not her own. Before Loki's eyes, Darcy's soft face stretched and hardened into the angular, almost gaunt features of Balder.

**AN: Don't worry. More will be coming soon! I just stopped it there because otherwise this chapter would be obscenely long.**


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: This chapter's shorter than I initially planned; I thought it would be best to spend more time on the details in the next chapter and make it really polished than to rush it out in a bundle with this one. **

**Chapter 23**

Balder smiled broadly. "You're very good, Loki. I knew you'd catch on eventually, but within minutes?" He shook his head. "You have exceeded my wildest expectations. Well done-oof-"

Loki cut him off, tightening his fingers until Balder's voice came out only as a wheezing chuckle. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," Loki hissed through gritted teeth, "apart from the fact that it would give me far more satisfaction to kill you _slowly_."

"Will this suffice?" Balder squeaked. He snapped his fingers. In a small burst of light and smoke, Darcy-the _real_ Darcy-appeared at Balder's side, her arms tied and her mouth gagged.

Loki, startled, let his grip slacken for an instant. Before he had a chance to so much as speak, Balder lashed out with a spell directed at Loki's ribcage.

Loki was thrown back against the opposite wall by the force of the blow. He staggered to his feet, clutching his chest and gasping for air. When he finally managed to straighten up to his full height, he found that Balder had pulled Darcy close against his chest and was holding a dagger against Darcy's neck.

"I lured her to the bathroom with magic," Balder said casually, tracing the length of Darcy's arm with his free hand. "I bound and gagged her, and told her that if she made so much as a move to fight me, break free, warn you, or call for help I would kill you before she had time for one last 'I love you.'"

Loki wetted his lips, his eyes dancing between the knife at Darcy's throat and Balder.

"I would ask you to leave her out of this, but I suppose it's a bit late for that now."

Balder's smile widened. "You know, _brother_, in a strange way I do believe I've missed you," he drawled. "It's been terribly dull all these years in the underworld. There's just nobody worth toying with there. You're so much more fun."

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me," Loki said acidly.

"As you should be. Most people?" Balder shook his head, curling his lip into a mocking sneer. "Not worth the trouble. But you..." He dug the knife into Darcy's skin. A miniscule ribbon of scarlet spilled down the length of her neck. Loki flinched. Balder chuckled softly. "Why would I kill you in your sleep when I could play with your psyche and lead you to destroy yourself instead?" He ran a finger along Darcy's cut, gathering the blood into a dense droplet. He swirled the crimson liquid as if it were a measure of fine wine. He stuck the finger in his mouth, licking every last trace of Darcy's blood as he withdrew the finger from his lips. Darcy looked as though she might vomit. "Out of curiosity," Balder said mildly, "what gave me away?"

Loki remained quiet. There was no knowing what Balder might do with any scrap of information Loki gave him; he couldn't take the risk.

Balder growled, squeezing Darcy's cheeks together viciously; Darcy let out a little squeak of pain and surprise. "_Answer me!_"

"It was the eyes," Loki stammered, holding up his hands defensively. He swallowed. "It was the color of your eyes. They were the wrong color."

Balder forced Darcy to look at him. He peered into her eyes, wide with barely suppressed fear, studying her irises closely.

He let out a short 'humph' of laughter and released Darcy's face, leaving white stripes across her already pale cheeks. "I never will understand," Balder said, shaking his head, "how an Aesir like you could become so emotionally attached to a mere mortal that you would have the precise shade of her eyes engraved in your memory. For that matter," he mused, "I don't know why you would get attached to _anyone_ to such a degree. Obsession…romance…" He wrinkled his nose. "This so-called _love_ nonsense….it's all so terribly inconvenient." He clucked his tongue sarcastically. "Such a waste. In another life, you could have been quite the tyrant."

"Spare me the theatrics."

Balder pulled Darcy against him once more. "I really don't think you're in any position to ask that I _spare you _anything," he said with a sardonic smile.

Loki stared at him coldly. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Balder repeated. He released Darcy from his arms, tossing her against the wall as if she were the size of a pillow. Loki flinched as she hit the wall and slumped to the floor with a little groan. "I want to make you tear your world apart," Balder said. "I want you to self-destruct, and I want to watch you do it." He sneered. "Your powers of observation may have put an end to my initial plan, but don't fret. I have other tricks up my sleeve."

"So do I."

Loki and Balder turned in startled unison as Darcy wriggled free of her bonds and shot a beam of scarlet light across the room.

"Darcy, don't!"

Loki's shout came too late. In the blink of an eye, Balder had deflected Darcy's hex into the wall and fired a bolt of ice at her from his outstretched arm. Her eyes went wide, her body still.

"Darcy…"

The sound of Loki's voice had no effect. Darcy crumpled the ground wordlessly.

Loki glowered at Balder, every bone in his body demanding that he exact revenge in the most excruciating way possible. "Well," he said stiffly, in a tone of forced calm, "there goes your leverage."

Balder's eyes narrowed. "Pity, that." He stepped forward, crossing the room silently so that he was almost nose to nose with Loki. "I suppose you'll want to avenge your lady love."

"That's a bit of an understatement," said Loki darkly.

Balder's eyes gleamed. "Excellent."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

With a cry of fury, Loki swung his arm around to strike Balder, bursts of bright blue light flying from his fingertips. It was a dance—Loki throwing all of his hatred and grief out in bolts of energy, Balder darting out of the way and firing back blasts of some dark smoky substance that exploded when it hit the wall opposite. The room became a cacophony of exploding colors and thundering sounds, but neither could gain the upper hand.

Balder drew his hand back to build up the largest spell he could muster, just as Loki did the same. In unison, the hexes flew across the room and collided in mid-air, sending a shockwave through the room that knocked Loki and Balder off their feet.

They each struggled to stand, gasping for air. A stream of dust fell from the cracked ceiling, threatening to let down an avalanche of stones and mortar.

Balder grinned through his panting. "Your mortal-born love is dead," he said between ragged breaths. "And you—you will die with her, now that your tie to life has been severed."

"You're right." Loki licked his dry lips. "I will die soon. And it couldn't come soon enough," he said, his voice rising, "because I'll be reunited with her! Just as soon as I'm done sending you back to the bowels of Niflheim where you belong!"

Snarling, Balder threw a blazing sphere of orange. Loki vanished and rematerialized behind Balder, just in time to see the sphere hit the spot against the wall where he ought to have been. Cracks like spiderwebs radiated from the impact point. In a low rumble of dying protest, the wall gave way, exposing the room to the heavy winds outside.

For a brief instant, Balder spun around, confused. Loki took the advantage and fired a spear of ice at Balder's unsuspecting back.

A third hand sprouted out of Balder's back and grabbed the spear in mid-air, snapping it before disintegrating into nothingness. Grinning triumphantly, Balder turned around to look directly at Loki just as he launched a kick into his stomach.

Loki let out a quiet grunt of pain. Doubled over, clutching his stomach, he waved his free hand in the air. The unsteady ceiling crumbled. Balder stumbled back as a stream of dust and rocks poured down in the middle of the room; a particularly large stone struck him in the shoulder as he tried to escape, and Balder fell to the ground.

When the dust settled, Loki heard sarcastic applause.

"Very good," Balder said. "Your fighting has gotten better since my expulsion from Asgard. We are well-matched."

"It would appear so," said Loki flatly.

"Ah!" Balder's eyes gleamed madly. "But this isn't sport to you, is it? You won't be satisfied to acknowledge that we are equals, shake my hand, and leave as friends, will you? No, that won't do at all. You want to kill me!" he yelled, laughing gleefully. "You want to make me pay for what I did to your goddess wife!" His expression darkened. "Goddess indeed. She was nothing. You might have made her like the Aesir, 'immortal,' resistant to old age, but she was no goddess. She was a filthy mortal to the core. And you…you want to spill more blood over her death, the death of a foolish, unremarkable, mortal girl."

Loki tensed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He swallowed furiously, willing himself not to snap. Balder was needling him by insulting Darcy's memory. It pained him not to break every bone in Balder's body with his bare hands for having _dared _to say what he did about Darcy, but he held back. He wouldn't play into the hands of a madman.

"You want to try to kill me?" Balder sneered. "Have at it, then," he said, producing two silver blades from thin air. "Let's do this as the mortal scum of old did it, in a test of brutality." He tossed one of the swords to Loki. "No magic. No tricks. Steel against cold steel."

"I accept." Loki prepared to swing.

Before Loki had drawn his sword back fully, Balder was darting forward. Loki parried once, twice, as Balder attempted to stab him. He dodged out of the way as Balder went in for a third strike, and with his momentum launched into a ferocious swing.

Balder leapt over Loki's sword. Loki stopped himself in mid-swing, seeing an advantage, and went in for a stab; Balder parried smoothly as he landed on his feet. Loki began swinging madly, trying to land a blow. Balder, struggling to parry under Loki's barrage, backed up. Loki pressed forward, forcing Balder farther and farther back until he was at the hole in the wall, the wind whipping his sleek blond hair every which way.

Balder glanced over his shoulder out the hole in the wall, taking in the hundred feet between himself and the unforgiving ground. His eyes settled on the something up above, out of Loki's line of sight. With a grin, Balder leapt gracefully through the hole in the wall and clambered up a buttress to the roof.

Loki looked at Darcy for a fleeting moment. Heralded by a clap of thunder, it began to rain outside. Gritting his teeth, Loki turned to the hole in the wall and ran. He launched himself off the edge of the building straight into the flying buttress Balder had used to climb up to the roof.

"Ah-"

Loki slipped with a cry of alarm and fell several feet, struggling to gain a strong hold on the stone beam slick with rain. He remained still for a few seconds, digging his fingers in and holding on for dear life. When he felt sure he would not fall any further, he forced himself to climb, one arm at a time. After what felt like a very long time with the rain pouring down on his head in heavy sheets, his fingers raw from holding on to the slippery rock, Loki reached the roof. But no sooner had he poked his head over the edge of the roof than Balder came barrelling towards him, sword poised over his head for a lethal strike.

Loki pulled himself over the edge of the roof and somersaulted out of the way: he was not quite fast enough. He hissed as Balder's sword grazed his arm; a stream of blood poured out from the wound, leaving almost flowery clouds of scarlet in the puddle beneath it.

Balder wiped the rainwater from his face with the back of his hand, and went in for the kill.

Clenching his teeth through the pain, Loki reached for his sword to parry. His eyes widened. Where he had expected to find cold steel, he found only water and jagged rock. He looked around in a panic. His sword lay several feet away, out of his reach. He cursed himself silently for letting go of the sword when he had dodged Balder's swing. He pursed his lips, trying desperately to think of a way out of the situation.

Balder held the tip of his sword against Loki's neck. "Any last words?"

Loki's eyes lit up; he knew what he was going to do. "Yeah," he said breathlessly.

Lowering his shoulders and head, he kicked upwards into Balder's groin. Wheezing in surprise, Balder staggered back against a heap of debris at the edge of the roof. Not missing a beat, Loki elbowed him in the chin and stole his sword. "Next time you have an enemy at your mercy, don't waste your time on idiotic nonsense like 'last words,'" Loki said darkly. He lowered the stolen sword to Balder's neck. "I assure you, I won't make the same mistake." And without another moment's thought, he stabbed.

Balder vanished.

Loki stepped back in confusion, glancing all around to find Balder and kill him. He was nowhere to be found.

He heard Balder's disembodied voice in his ear. "I'll be back," he whispered. "Soon. I will be back with an army, and there is nothing that anyone can do to stop me."

Loki spun around, swinging his sword madly, trying to kill a man who was no longer there. "YOU COWARD!" he bellowed into the night. "COME BACK AND FIGHT."

It was useless. Balder was gone. Loki had had him at his mercy, and the bastard had magicked his way out of Loki's grasp.

Loki doubled over, his chest shaking with furious, choking sobs. "You bastard," he growled through his tears. "You cowardly, murderous son of a bitch." Darcy was gone. She was gone, and he could not even have the satisfaction of slaying the man who had sapped all the light from his life.

All at once, it was too much for him to bear, the agony of it all pressing down on him with what felt like a physical burden. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. Loki's knees gave out, and he slid to the ground, unable to speak, unable to feel, unable to care. The rain pounded down on his back, washing away the blood and the tears until all that was left was a raw, awful emptiness that made him ache.


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

Loki didn't know how long he lay there, curled up in a puddle. It might have been seconds; he barely even noticed that any time was slipping by. It might have been hours. It may have even been years, for all he knew, because he found all of a sudden that everything before Balder's arrival had gone blank; his memory was foggy, every feeling he ought to have remembered dimmed by a resonating pain he couldn't tune out.

However much time went by, he eventually forced himself to stand up: dragging himself across the roof, sliding down the buttress to the floor below, somehow coming to land gracefully on his feet despite the fact that his body felt like lead. He was surprised to find that his chambers-or rather, the part of his chambers that hadn't been destroyed in the fight-were crowded with chattering, whispering people. A servant close to the wall spotted Loki and turned to shush his neighbor. As if it were choreographed, the entire room went silent. Everyone-servants, ladies-in-waiting, guards, noblemen and women-turned to stare at Loki. Loki stared right back at them, slightly befuddled even in his dull haze. Their eyes weren't full of the pitying, condescendingly sad looks that people out on when they went to funerals. As a matter of fact, the overwhelming impression he got from the room was one of curiosity and half-fabricated gossip. There was a brief reprise in the noise as Relygyr parted the crowds to approach Loki.

Loki looked to the corner of the room where the crowd was densest, the corner where Darcy...where she had fallen. "Where is the body?" he asked quietly.

"There is no body."

Loki turned to Relygyr with alarm. He began to ask what on earth he meant by that, but the words died in his throat. His question came out as a quiet, strangled, "wha-?"

Relygyr put his hands up to calm Loki. "Nothing to fear, Loki. She's alright. Darcy is alive," he said hurriedly.

Loki froze. "Darcy is-"

"She's in the infirmary," Relygyr interrupted. "She's unconscious, but it looks as though she's going to survive." He frowned. "What in Asgard happened? How did all of this happen?"

Loki straightened up and strode from the room before Relygyr could finish his questions. "Excuse me," he said bluntly, not even stopping to see if the crowd parted before he pushed his way through their ranks.

* * *

><p>"Where is she?"<p>

Ealyse looked up at the sound of Loki's voice. She put down the bandages she was rolling and crossed the room to stand before him. "Loki..."

"Where is she? Where's Darcy?" he demanded, trying to sidestep Ealyse to get to the room behind her, just around the corner.

"She's with the healer," said Ealyse, mirroring Loki's steps and preventing him from going any further with a firm hand on his chest. "My own knowledge of magic wasn't sufficient to mend her injuries; we called the best healer in the realm."

"Let me see her," Loki said harshly. He abandoned his attempt at sidestepping Ealyse in favor of pushing forward with brute strength.

"Loki, if you storm in there like this you're going to startle the healer! She could accidentally hurt Darcy if she's not paying attention."

Loki relented. He slouched in defeat and stared in Darcy's direction longingly.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

"It's a miracle she's alive." Ealyse crossed her arms. "I've never seen anyone hurt so badly live to tell the tale. I don't know how to explain it, but her body must have healed itself somehow. Her sternum and three of her ribs are fractured, and I suspect her lungs will be a little bit bruised, but considering the fact that her attacker had a sufficient mastery of magic to blast a hole in the wall, her injuries ought to have been much worse."

"What of the frostbite?" Loki asked.

Ealyse raised her eyebrows. "Frostbite?"

"She was shot with a bolt of ice," he said. "A massive one. Knowing her attacker's magical prowess, that ice bolt like that would have been powerful enough to give even Thor a lethal amount of frostbite."

Ealyse narrowed her eyes at Loki. "Loki, I examined her myself. There was no sign of frostbite."

Loki became very still. A thought occurred to him...

_No. No, that couldn't be it..._

A short, plump woman with graying hair entered the room. "Are you Prince Loki?" she asked.

He hurried forward. "Yes, I am. Where is Darcy? Is she alright?"

The healer pursed her lips. "She'll live. I managed to repair her broken bones and some of the bruising, but I'm afraid she's in a bit of a shock at the moment."

"Let me see her," Loki said. "I'll calm her down."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the healer said. She nodded to one of the cots. "You might want to sit down."

"Why? What's the matter?" he stammered. "I thought you said she'll live."

"She will. But there's something else." She raised an eyebrow. "Your wife is going to have a baby."


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Short and fluffy. Calm before the storm and all that. As always, thanks for reading!**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

Loki blinked at the healer.

"What?"

"You're going to be a father," the healer said calmly.

Loki sputtered incredulously. "Wha-what-I'm...A father? Me?"

"As far as I know, yes," said the healer. She gave Loki a piercing look. "However, there are a couple of irregularities. Nothing serious," she added hurriedly, seeing the look of panic that flashed across Loki's face, "but I would like to ask you some questions to get to the bottom of the matter."

"Of course," he said, "anything."

"Wonderful." The healer clasped her hands behind her back. "Do you know, by any chance, if you are a descendant of any jotun?"

Loki stiffened. "I suppose you could put it that way," he said flatly, "seeing as I am a jotun."

"Are you really?"

Loki stared at the ground and swallowed. Reluctantly, he nodded.

The healer let out a short laugh. Loki looked up at her. He had received many responses to the news that he was part frost giant, but none had been as bewildering or positive as this. "Well that explains everything," she said, peering at Loki as if he were the result of a particularly surprising scientific experiment. "It would appear she has been pregnant for a while now, but she is only just beginning to show symptoms. Odd for an Asgardian, but completely in line with normal jotun pregnancies. That would also explain her slightly lowered core body temperature." The healer stopped speaking and frowned.

"What? What is it?" Loki asked.

She shook her head, smiling. "Of course," she muttered. "That's how she survived the frost bolt. Your child's natural jotun resistance to cold and ice must have transferred to Darcy. How extraordinary. It's long been known that mothers pass immunity to certain diseases to fetuses and newborn infants," she said, "but this is the first I've ever heard of the reverse happening."

"So she's alright?"

"As far as I know." The healer raised her eyebrows. "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Come with me."

Loki followed the healer.

_What on earth am I going to say to her?_

* * *

><p>Darcy was sitting up in bed when Loki entered the room. Her face lit up. "Loki."<p>

"Darcy," he said. He gave her a quivery smile as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "You're alive."

Darcy bit her lip and put a hand on Loki's cheek. As she leaned in for a kiss, Loki was relieved to see that her eyes were the deep blue shade he had missed.

The healer cleared her throat. The couple pulled apart before their lips could make contact. "I'll leave you two alone for a minute."

Darcy flushed pink as the healer hurried from the room.

Loki stared at the ground; he wasn't sure he could look directly at Darcy's face any longer without injuring his cheeks smiling.

"Did she tell you the news?" Darcy asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Loki said after a pause, "she did."

"And?"

Loki looked back up at her. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were wide, not sure what to expect.

"That's wonderful news," he said. "I..." He surprised himself by laughing.

Darcy giggled. "You're speechless."

"Not an easy thing to do," he said, "putting me at a complete loss for words."

Darcy kissed him. When they seperated, her eyes were so deeply crinkled that Loki could barely see the whites of them. He had never seen her smile so widely. "I'm going to be a mommy," she squealed.

"And I'm going to be a father...a normal one, not with magic. And not to make a horse."

Darcy snorted. "Freaking Sleipnir." She raised an eyebrow at him. "If our child ever wants a puppy, you're buying it, not making it."

"Aw," Loki said, mock-pouting. "But nobody sells eight-legged puppies."

Darcy rolled her eyes. Her smile faded.

"What?" Loki asked.

"So you're cool with this?"

Loki pressed his lips together. "Nothing could make me happier."

Darcy grinned.


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Jane flinched for what seemed the twentieth time that morning.

"Is the baby coming?" Darcy asked anxiously.

"Ow—no," Jane hissed, stooping over with the pain. "Just another contraction."

Darcy's brow furrowed. "You know, you should probably see the healer about this. She could probably give you a potion or something to numb the pain."

"Darcy, I'm fine, really…" Jane straightened up, wheezing.

Darcy crossed her arms impatiently. "Why can't the baby just pop out already? Look at the size of your stomach! A few more days, and you're going to have to watch out for freaking whale hunters."

"Thanks."

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean it that way," Darcy said. "I mean, look at my bump. It's only a matter of time before my uterus enters a different time zone."

Jane smiled but didn't say anything in reply.

"Do they even have time zones here?" asked Darcy.

Jane shrugged. They didn't speak for a long time.

Darcy gave Jane a sidelong glance.

Jane raised her eyebrows defensively. "What?"

"_What _what?"

"Why were you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know," said Darcy. "Why were you looking ominously into the distance like that?"

"I was not looking 'ominously,'" Jane said. "I was thinking."

"About the baby?"

Jane frowned. "No, actually, I was thinking about subatomic particles. I've been away from my work for so long…" She trailed off. "I miss it," she said bluntly. "I miss the distraction of it all."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just…Everything I've been doing for the last year or so—intergalactic politics, fighting wars, preventing wars, marrying an alien and living on a planet millions of light-years from home…it's just been so crazy and different. Looking back, science just seems so much more straightforward. Elegant. Simple."

Darcy's lips twitched. She tried with all her might not to let out her laughter, but then it slipped out: a snort.

She started cackling madly, laughing too hard to care how absurd she sounded.

Jane scowled at her. "What's so funny?"

Darcy gasped for air, pressing a hand to her swollen and currently kicking belly. "Jane," she laughed, "I could use a lot of words to describe what you do. _Simple _is not one of them."

Jane's face contorted into a grimace, her lips pressed together and her eyes shut tight.

Darcy sobered quickly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make fun of-"

"AHHHH!" Jane curled in on herself. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

"Jane, I'm sorry!" Darcy yelled. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you! I didn't mean it!"

"I'm-not mad-at you," Jane whimpered, panting. "I'm-AUUUGGHH." With a wail, she rolled onto her side.

"Jane, are you okay? Jane?" Darcy's eyes widened. "Wait...Oh my god...Is it the baby?"

Jane nodded silently, tears streaming down her face.

Darcy went pale. "HELP! HEALER! EALYSE! LOKI! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!"

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"Loki, at least consider it…"

"No, Thor."

"It would be charming."

"It would be awful."

"They'll think it amusing."

"They'll want to kill us for giving them such horrid names."

"They're not that horrid."

"Darcy would never allow it. Nor, I think, would Jane."

"Why wouldn't they?" Thor asked defensively. "What's wrong with naming our first-borns Thora and Loki II?"

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Do I really have to spell this out?"

"Yes."

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "They're absolutely ridiculous names," Loki said. "Including the suffix 'the second' as part of a first name is, frankly, bizarre, and I don't think 'Thora' is even a name."

"It is a name."

"No, it...Is it really?"

"I have a barrel of mead that says it is."

"You realize I could produce a barrel of mead any time I wish?"

"Loki..."

"Alright," Loki sighed. "I have a spell for a life-like dummy you could use for target practice...but it doesn't matter, because Thora is not a real name."

"Yes, it is. Oh, this is ridiculous. Come on. We'll find Relygyr; he can tell you that Thora is a name." He walked down the corridor. "Relygyr! Relygyr, Loki and I-"

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"

Loki started with a shock as Darcy came sprinting down the hallway and ran straight into Thor.

"Darcy, be careful! The baby!" he said anxiously.

"Don't worry about me," she panted. "It's Jane...she needs help."

"Jane?" Thor said. He gripped Darcy's arms in a panic. "Is she alright? Is she hurt?"

"The baby's coming," said Darcy. "For real this time. It's not a contraction. She's going into labor."

Thor's eyes were as wide as saucers. "The baby. The baby's coming now?"

"Yes, and she needs help! I left her in the hallway; I don't know how to deliver a baby!"

"I do." Loki took Darcy's hand. "Where is she? Which hallway?"

Darcy swallowed. "Follow me."


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Short chapter before I have to let somebody borrow my computer for a while. Rest assured, when I get it back, I will post multiple chapters.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

"Ah…ah!"

Thor visibly flinched with every cry and whimper of pain that escaped Jane's mouth.

"It's alright, Jane." He took her hand. "It's going to be alright."

Jane forced herself to smile briefly at him, but her smile contorted into a grimace as she let out another wail.

"AHHHH!" She squeezed Thor's hands, crushing his fingers; a weaker man would have lost every bone in his hand to her grip.

Thor stared at his wife helplessly. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he pleaded to Loki.

"I'm afraid not," Loki said, pressing his lips together. "I don't want to put any sort of numbing enchantment on her until the healers arrive. They might need her to be able to move normally, without any paralysis."

Thor growled in frustration. "How much longer will she have to endure this agony?"

"I'll be fine, Thor," Jane panted. "It's not that—OWWWW. Owww." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Okay, it's bad," she admitted in a small voice. "How long is this going to take?"

"Longer than I thought. It was so sudden, I half expected you to give birth in the hallway." He gave Jane a pained smile. "It's going to be alright. The healers and a midwife will be here soon."

Darcy craned her neck over Loki's shoulder. "Would it help if I told her to push?"

"At the moment? No."

"Darcy," Thor said hurriedly, "why don't you run and find out what's taking the healers so long?"

Darcy nodded. But as she turned to leave, a deep rumble filled the air and the castle shuddered violently. She threw her hands up over her head as several pieces of debris rained down from the ceiling.

"Look out!"

"Darcy, look out!"

Darcy curled up on the floor until the shaking subsided. As she rose to her feet, she looked around the room, bewildered. "What the hell just happened?" she asked.

Before either Thor or Loki could begin to guess, they heard a trumpet from elsewhere in the castle.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! GUARDS, TO YOUR STATIONS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

"What?" Jane squeaked. "They can't attack now."

Loki crossed the room in two steps, and peered outside through the narrow window. Darcy scurried after him, looking over his shoulder in disbelief.

Where there should have been rich land in shades of green and brown surrounding Aelwyd stood a sea of blue. The army of jotun stretched out for at least a quarter of a mile, densely packed, in all directions. At the head of the army stood two figures: one blonde, one bald.

"Apparently they can."

"How did Fury get in contact with Balder or the jotun?" Darcy asked. "How did he even travel from the Earth once Odin sent him home from Asgard after the feast?"

Loki shook his head. "I don't know. One of Balder's great failings as a sorcerer was his inability to travel between realms unassisted. Either he figured it out himself or someone else—"

The door creaked behind him. He spun around as the doorway opened, shielding Darcy, prepared to throw daggers at any attacker who dared enter.

Two women in healers' robes stood at the threshold. They both froze at the sight of Loki and the throwing knives held precariously at the tips of his fingers.

He relaxed. "Oh, thank goodness it's you," he said, sighing with relief as he stowed his weapons.

One of the women, stern-faced and silver-haired with a midwife's emblem on her shoulder, dared to step into the room. "How is she doing?"

"She's making progress," said Loki, "but it's slow. Very slow."

"And no sign of the boy?"

Loki shook his head.

The midwife pursed her lips. "Very well." She gestured to Darcy and Loki. "Unless Lady Jane has expressed a desire for you to be here, I want the two of you out. I don't want too many cooks in my kitchen, metaphorically speaking. Go help Relygyr and the companions you brought with you, they're sending out a party to meet with the attackers." She clucked her tongue. "Of all days for an attack!" she cried, shaking her head. She jerked her head at them. "Go. You're needed in the main hall."

Darcy and Loki didn't need to be told twice. They raced from the room without looking back.

After watching them leave, Thor turned to Jane. He brushed a tear from her cheek gently. "It's alright, Jane," he said. "It's going to be alright."


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

The great hall sounded like a beehive when Darcy and Loki finally made their way downstairs, dozens of voices dulled into a melting pot of anger and fear. Rogers, who was discussing something with Sif and Stark in an urgent whisper, was first to notice their entrance. He gestured for them to join him.

He spoke without preamble the minute they were within earshot. "We've got a problem," he muttered to them.

"What, you mean the big freaking army outside?" said Darcy. "We noticed."

"Besides the army," he said impatiently. "We just got word that we lost a few of our allies."

Loki began to protest. If Puck or Coyote were trying to back out—but Sif cut him off.

"Where's Thor? I should think he'd be here by now."

"Jane's gone into labor. He's with her and the healers, upstairs."

Sif cursed.

"Well, that makes us _four_ fries short of a Happy Meal," Stark said with forced cheer.

"Four?"

"It's the Warriors Three," Rogers explained. "They won't be able to make it in time. Sif just received word from Asgard that a dragon was attacking villagers. They've gone there to help."

Loki swallowed. He was reconciled with the idea that they would be fighting without Thor. It would certainly make things difficult, and it worsened their odds, but success wasn't outside the realm of possibility. But to be missing four of Asgard's finest warriors, against an army of _jotun _no less…it didn't bode well.

"Does Relygyr know?" he asked.

"He knows," Rogers said. "He's talking it over with his council now."

Loki glanced across the room darkly. Sure enough, Relygyr was hunched over a table littered with maps and crumpled diagrams, battle strategies put forth only to be discarded seconds later. At least three of his councilmen were trying to speak to him at once, but his face suggested that he listened to them only distantly, too focused on the thoughts racing in his own mind to really hear a word. He stroked his beard manically; he would doubtless have a bald patch on his chin by the end of the day if he kept up the frantic pace at which he tugged at his facial hair.

Meanwhile, Sif and Rogers had resumed their whispered conversation.

"What about them?" Sif hissed, jerking her head at Loki and Darcy. "They could create a diversion."

"Not Darcy," Rogers said firmly. Seeing the disgruntled look on her face, he put up a hand in a calming gesture. "Not because I don't think you're capable. I know you can hold your own in a fight. But the pregnancy is slowing you down. I'm not going to send anyone into danger if they can't get out of it _quickly_ in an emergency."

"Alright, Loki then. He's a frost giant. He can infiltrate their ranks and cause mayhem."

Loki's response was immediate. "Done."

"Undone," Stark said bluntly.

Loki glowered at him. "Dare I ask why?"

"Uh, yes," Stark said, pretending to think it over. "You may dare. In fact, I won't even make you ask, I'll just answer. You're not really planning to create a diversion. You're just trying to get close enough to Baldie—"

"—Balder—"

"—whatever—to strangle him."

Loki was displeased, but he didn't bother to contradict Stark. If it was that _immediately_ obvious from his demeanor that he intended to kill Balder with his bare hands, no amount of arguing was going to dissuade him. In any case, their conversation was ended as a wave of shushing ran through the gathered masses. Everyone turned to the front of the room; Relygyr raised his hands for silence.

"The council and I have reached a decision," he said solemnly. "We will send a party across the battlefield to attempt to negotiate a peace treaty with Fury and the jotun army. It is our most sincere hope that such negotiations will succeed, for we now know that war is not the glorious ideal that our ancestors once held. It is a terrible tragedy, one which inevitably leads to loss of innocent life and unnecessary bloodshed. Nevertheless…" He paused, composing himself. After a moment, his beard trembling slightly, he continued. "Nevertheless, there are times when war is the only choice—when all attempts at peace have failed, to protect against aggression or to defend the defenseless. In the event that the party is unable to reach terms agreeable to both sides…we will fight.

"The party," he continued over the outburst of muttering that followed his pronouncement, "will be made up of one representative from each race involved in this matter. I will represent the Vanir people. Captain Rogers will represent the people of Midgard. In lieu of Thor—who is, I understand, otherwise occupied at the moment—Lady Darcy will represent the Aesir. In addition, our party will be accompanied by one warrior to defend us in the event that negotiations take a turn for the worst. Shieldmaiden Sif has been chosen for that task." Relygyr swallowed heavily. "Until we leave, I have commanded my army to defend against the jotun, using as little force as possible. We depart in one hour."

**AN: I'm back! New chapter tomorrow.**


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: It's been announced that Kat Dennings is returning to play Darcy in Thor 2. Can't help but wonder if the fandom didn't have something to do with it…**

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

The party strode across the battlefield, their faces grim and their postures unyielding. Darcy's attempt at an intimidating approach was somewhat marred by her waddling gait, but what she lacked in grace she more than compensated for with the cold determination in her eyes.

Across the field, in the distance, Darcy could see the General striding about among the jotun soldiers, barking orders at them, beating those who did not meet his expectations. At the forefront of the army, Fury stood waiting, his hands clasped behind his back. Balder stood a few steps behind him, alongside a second younger jotun general that Darcy did not recognize.

Balder caught Darcy's wandering gaze. Her stomach plummeted as every inch of her went cold. She shuddered, half wishing that she could look away from his almost transparent blue eyes. She remembered very little from the night when he had attacked her and taken on her form, but she couldn't forget his eyes, the way they seemed to seep through her like acid, peeling away at her until she knew she was naked in his mind's eye—both her body and her mind, her worst fears and nightmares as exposed as her flesh. His smile widened.

Darcy shuddered, fighting back the impulse to retch.

"You'll be okay," Rogers murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

Darcy shook her head. Cold shivers kept running up and down her spine, raising the hairs at the nape of her neck like nails on a chalkboard. "You don't know what he can do."

"You're right, I don't. But I know Fury. And I know that, despite where he stands right now, he is a good man. Nobody's going to hurt you while he's in charge. I promise."

She wasn't convinced, but she nodded anyway. As a young woman with a fondness for spending time in the rough parts of town, she had learned long ago that the quickest way to become a victim was to act like one. Ignoring Balder's unwavering leer, she held her chin up high and desperately hoped that nobody could see her hands shaking.

After several seconds that seemed to go on far longer than they should have, the two groups met at the center of the battlefield.

Fury looked unhappy. "Can you count, Cap?"

"Since the first grade," Rogers said smoothly.

"Then why do I see four of you opposite _three_ of us?"

"I insisted that we have protection," said Relygyr.

"With good reason," Sif interjected. "You have an army!"

"They have _you_," Fury fired back.

Rogers put a hand on Sif's shoulder before she could retort. She pursed her lips but didn't say anything more. Rogers turned to Fury; his mouth trembled as if he was suppressing a smile. "Well, I guess if this negotiation blows up, we'll have a fair fight."

Darcy could have sworn that Sif's cheeks went pink.

The men didn't appear to notice. "Very well," Fury said. He turned to the jotun general; Balder visibly bristled at being passed over by Fury. "Proceed."

The jotun general stepped forward, allowing the party a better look at him. In some ways, he was like Loki in frost giant form, with a slight build and a pleasant, youthful face; however, he wore the garb of frost giants, and wore his long silvery-white hair in a ponytail. Strangest of all, he gave the party a smile by way of greeting: not the cruel, condescending smile that the other General bore, but a genuine, welcoming smile.

"I am Róttækir Strákur, a general and ambassador of the Jotun Army, acting in lieu of General Orðin Leið. You all know Mister Fury and Balder Odinson, I'm sure. I presume you are the representatives."

"You presume correctly," Relygyr replied politely, bowing his head. "I am Relygyr, King of Vanaheim, lord of the palace Aelwyd. This man is Captain Steve Rogers, a soldier and tactician of Midgard. The woman next to him is Lady Darcy, born of Midgard, princess of Asgard by her marriage to Loki Odinson, also known as Loki Laufeyson." Darcy expected Strákur to spit on the ground as the other jotun did whenever Loki's birth name was mentioned, but he did not react to it except to widen his eyes slightly in recognition. Relygyr continued. "The other woman on my left is Lady Sif, Shieldmaiden of Asgard. She is here to protect us. The only negotiation she will be doing is with her sword."

Strákur let out a brief laugh. "Understood. Let us hope it doesn't come to that." He retrieved a piece of paper from a pouch on his belt. He unfolded it as he continued to speak. "It may surprise you to hear that we are not interested in violence." Balder's lip curled, and he made a "humph" of disagreement. Strákur ignored him and finished unfolding the paper. "The only thing we are interested in is the safety and well-being of the nine realms. As such, the only condition we demand in exchange for peace is that we be allowed to eliminate the threat."

"The threat being Thor's unborn son."

"The threat being the child that the Norns warned would bring about Ragnarok. Considering that Thor is the eldest son of Odin, it seems only reasonable to assume that his son is the one we ought to be concerned about."

"I do not question your logic," Relygyr said flatly. "However I cannot condone the killing of an innocent. I reject your terms."

"Rogers," Fury snapped, "talk some sense into this man. We're not talking about some cute little bundle of joy here. We're talking about a cute little bundle of earth-shattering doom."

"Innocent until proven guilty, sir. The kid hasn't done anything wrong yet."

"Yet," Fury said. "_Yet_, Rogers. Do you hear yourself speaking? There is a strong possibility, some might even say certainty, that this kid's going to destroy the universe someday. Now I don't know about you, but I'm not going to see how he turns out and wait until five minutes to Armageddon to get rid of him if I can stop the whole damn thing from ever happening."

Darcy was surprised to find words spilling out of her mouth. "What about Loki?"

Fury turned to her and made a face. "What _about_ Loki?"

Darcy swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to speak loudly. "Loki was supposed to cause Ragnarok too," she said. "He ended up saving my life."

"Look," Fury said, "I'm really glad you got your fairy tale ending. But just because your hubby wriggled out of a prophecy once does not negate the fact that most of your prophecies have ended up coming true. Seeing as this prophecy concerns the potential doom of all humanity, I'm not going to take any chances."

Relygyr's voice was quiet, but dignified. "I see. In that case, it seems I have no choice."

Fury smiled, satisfied.

Relygyr brushed the dust from his robes, and then turned to Rogers. "Help Lady Darcy from the field."

"Sir?"

"Quickly. And tell my men that you come with a message from their king." Relygyr's eyes narrowed. "We are at war."


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

Loki paced restlessly, his feet pounding out a nervous rhythm that rang back at him from the smooth, hard walls. The thoughts dashing about in his head mirrored the anxiety in his stride, a seemingly endless train of battlefield scenarios that all ended with Darcy hurt or dead: Darcy hit by a stray arrow, Darcy killed instantly by a careless sweep with a broadsword, Darcy under attack after failed negotiations, Darcy held captive as a bargaining chip, Balder…

He gritted his teeth, unconsciously curling his hands into fists as unbridled hatred flowed through his veins once more, leaving a nauseating coppery sting in his mouth. He could hardly bear to imagine the torments that Balder might have inflicted upon Darcy if he had been given the chance, what horrors he could still commit if negotiations went awry.

Loki let out a shuddering breath, trying to slow his racing mind. Darcy was the love of Loki's life, the woman closest to his heart. Perhaps Balder's earlier encounter with Darcy had been nothing personal. Perhaps he had simply been trying to hurt Loki, exaggerating the enjoyment he got out of Darcy's pain simply to aggravate his true target. But as soon as the thought crossed Loki's mind, he knew it wasn't true. He had seen the gleam in Balder's eyes. This wasn't just about politics or revenge anymore. Balder had taken a liking to Darcy—or rather his twisted, sociopathic version of "like." Something about her impulsiveness, her stubbornness, the ferocity with which she approached life had drawn Balder like a moth to a light. Balder was no longer motivated solely by his desire to kill Loki. Balder wanted to break Darcy.

Loki resumed pacing, his footsteps speeding up until he was practically running back and forth across the hall, his hands clasping and unclasping compulsively.

* * *

><p>The baby kicked insistently in Darcy's belly.<p>

_Yes, yes, I know you're not happy, _she thought at her belly irritably, _but_ _Mommy's trying to get away from bad guys right now._

Just behind her, two voices suddenly cried out in tandem.

"Darcy!"

"Look out!"

She was aware of two hands—one broad and strong, the other slimmer—pushing against her back, forcing her to the ground, before the adrenaline took over. In a tumult of sounds and sensations that happened too quickly for her to process, Darcy landed on the ground, just managing to catch herself with her hands in time to protect her abdomen. A split second later, she heard the distinct sound of two bodies crumpling behind her.

* * *

><p>The jotun army looked on as the smoke from the projectile spell cleared, the faces in their ranks just as bewildered as those of the fleeing party.<p>

Róttækir turned to stare at Balder. "He just attacked them mid-retreat," he said disbelievingly. He turned to Fury. "Against your orders."

Fury scowled, rage evident in his one eye. "Follow me," he snapped, striding across the battlefield.

Róttækir bowed slightly before following. "Yes, my lord."

Fury didn't see his subordinate's gesture. He had already stormed halfway across the field towards Balder, his trench coat fanning out behind him with every step.

"What the hell just happened?"

"The delegation declared war," Balder said. He smirked. "I obliged."

"Obliged, my ass. You just attacked a diplomatic party when their backs were turned, disobeying my orders."

Balder let out a brief, contemptuous laugh. "You, of all people, complain about my disregard for orders? As I understand it," he said, gesturing broadly, "you prefer to make up your own mind. Particularly when it comes to 'stupid-ass decisions.'"

Róttækir drew his sword. "How dare you insult your commander?"

Balder laughed openly now. "Yggdrasil," he said, "I'm surrounded by hypocrites. You criticize me for insulting authority when you yourself have been accused of inciting rebellion against General Leið himself?"

"I speak my mind," Róttækir snarled. "But I do so with the utmost respect. And when I do speak against my general, it is only because I want what's best for my people, not out of some misguided hatred towards a brother who rightfully usurped me."

Balder's lip curled.

Fury rolled his eye. "Put your sword away, Róttækir," he said bluntly. "Tell the troops to cease fire until the four of them have made it to safety. Save the inspirational speech for later. And as for you..."

"Wait," Balder said, holding up a finger. "I think I know this one: 'I've got my eye on you.'"

"If you disobey my orders again," Fury said loudly, acting as if he hadn't heard anything, "I will personally see to it that you are stabbed by every single person in this army at least once. And _then _I will turn you over to Loki, who I hear got very creative thinking of punishments after his stint with the snake. Incidentally, he's still pretty pissed off about the whole 'trying to kill his wife' thing. So, if I were you, I would make a point to do what I say. Do I make myself clear?"

"Transparently."

"Good." Without another word, Fury left. But the icy, piercing hatred in Balder's eyes made one thing very clear: their conversation was not finished yet.

**AN: On an unrelated note, how would all of you readers feel if I-hypothetically-wrote a novel and published it in e-book form? I'm kind of broke at the moment, and I'm trying to think of ways to make money that involve a flexible schedule. Would any of you be interested in reading/buying such a book?**


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: Sorry these are coming so slowly and each chapter is so short. Life is a bit crazy right now, and I have to be very careful these next few chapters to set things up _exactly _right so everything comes together. (Yes, there is a plan. Yes, it will all make sense in the end, hopefully.)**

**Also, a soundtrack suggestion for Balder's theme: "Coup d'Etat" from X-Men: First Class.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

Darcy stood, still shaking from the blast. She turned around slowly. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Steve! Sif!"

She hurried towards the pair, who lay sprawled on the ground. Sif forced herself to get up off the ground as Darcy neared. She hissed, grabbing her left arm. Before her hand could cover it, Darcy saw the injury: a large, angry wound on Sif's bicep, seeping crimson blood down her sleeve.

"Just a scratch," Sif said, seeing the look on Darcy's face. She turned and saw Rogers struggling to his feet beside her. Her semblance of calm flickered for a moment as she stumbled towards him. "Rogers!" she said, sounding slightly panicked.

"I'm okay," he said, gritting his teeth. "I'll be fine. Let's just get off the battlefield."

A grimace twisting his features, Rogers continued walking towards Aelwyd. Darcy grabbed his uninjured left arm. "Wait, I can heal you!"

Sif shook her head. She followed Rogers, pulling Darcy along by the wrist. "No time," she panted. "They could fire again any minute. We need to get out of here."

Darcy pursed her lips. Rogers and Sif were both extremely resilient, but their wounds were ugly. She could see tiny patches of muscle glaring out through the blood. However, they had a point. Healing both of them would take at least five minutes…far more time than they could afford in an open battlefield without cover. With a reluctant sigh, she followed them. "Alright. Hurry."

* * *

><p>Fury stood inside his tent, hunched over a table littered with diagrams. "—and Balder will take the left flank," he said.<p>

Róttækir made an annoyed noise deep in his throat.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Róttækir's nose curled up. He stopped it before it became a fully-fledged sneer, however, and smoothed his face into a respectfully impassive mask.

Fury clasped his hands behind his back. "Róttækir?"

Róttækir sighed. "No, sir." He pressed his lips together.

Fury managed not to roll his eyes. "You have my permission to speak candidly," he said.

"I don't trust Balder."

"You don't trust Balder," Fury repeated baldly.

"No, sir."

"I'm not asking you to trust him. I'm not even asking you to follow him."

"No, you aren't," Róttækir admitted, lowering his head slightly. "But you are asking my warriors to follow him, a man who directly disobeyed your orders."

"I am. And they will do as they are ordered."

Róttækir banged his fist down on the table. "My warriors follow a code," he said. "Disobeying one's superior officer is one of the most dishonorable offenses any soldier can commit. Attacking unarmed civilians even more so. I cannot ask my warriors to follow a man who would stoop that low."

"At the expense of disobeying a superior officer yourself?"

Róttækir fell silent.

Fury raised his eyebrow. "Well?"

"No, sir," Róttækir admitted reluctantly.

"Good. Then Balder will take the left flank. We begin our attack in two hours."

* * *

><p>Ealyse waited at the gates of Aelwyd, looking hopefully across the field for any sign of the returning party. She glanced over her shoulder as a pair of familiar footsteps rang out once again in the hall behind him. Sure enough, it was Loki.<p>

"Come back to pace again?"

Loki shook his head as he took his place beside the girl, looking into the distance for some hint of Darcy's return.

"Any word from the infirmary?"

"Jane is still in labor," Loki said quietly, "with no sign of letting up any time soon. The midwife's never seen anything like it."

A tense pause ensued.

"I wish I could be out there," Ealyse said abruptly.

Loki looked at her quizzically.

Ealyse flushed. "I'm sorry. That was out of nowhere. I didn't mean to interrupt your thinking."

"It's perfectly alright," Loki answered. Ealyse didn't reply. "So you're a warrior, I take it."

She beamed. "I'd like to think so. I love fencing. Good at it, too."

"A fencer?" Loki repeated, smiling in spite of himself. Ealyse nodded. "That's interesting."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

Loki paused. "You call yourself a warrior, and yet your favorite art is fencing. It seems somewhat…incongruous."

"What do you mean?" she asked, now somewhat indignant. "I like war. I like fighting. Fencing is a type of fighting. What's the matter with that?"

"Let's just say that your notion of war is a bit idealistic," Loki said.

He went silent. Ealyse didn't press him, partly sensing that Loki had no particular desire to speak and partly annoyed by his borderline condescension. After a several long minutes in silence, Loki turned on his heel and walked away.

Just then, off in the distance, Ealyse saw a small black dot on the horizon. "They're back," she said.

Loki stopped. "What?"

"The party. They've returned." Ealyse squinted against the sunlight. Her jaw dropped. "Oh no."

"What is it? What's happened?" Loki demanded.

"Look."

The two of them peered into the distance, Loki looking over the top of Ealyse's head, trying to see exactly where it was she was pointing. His eyes settled on the four figures in the distance—two of them limping.

Loki went pale. "I have to help them."

Ealyse stared as Loki raced down the front steps across the field. "Loki, wait!"

He did not stop running, but merely turned his head to call over his shoulder. "Fetch everyone not helping Jane in the infirmary. I'm bringing them back."


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: I apologize for the late updates and the slow pacing. I don't foresee updates coming much faster in the near future (I'm very busy at the moment), but the next chapter will mark the beginning of the story's climax…something which I am very excited for, because I cannot wait to write the ending of this story. It is, hands down, my favorite ending for any story I have written. **

**Soundtrack to this story (in order): Fear Will Find You by Hans Zimmer, Stuff We Did by Michael Giacchino, and Obliviate by Alexandre Desplat.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

Darcy hurried onward, glancing worriedly over her shoulder at Sif and Rogers every few seconds. The two were now limping in tandem, each draping their uninjured arm over the other's shoulders.

"Darcy!"

She stopped for a split second, looking around for the source of the noise. She recognized the voice, but it could just be the wind

"Darcy!"

She looked over her shoulder. She did a double take, completely taken aback. Loki was somehow walking alongside her.

Sif and Rogers noticed him too.

"When did you get here?" Rogers asked, looking extremely confused.

"What are you doing here?" said Darcy.

"Ealyse saw what happened at a distance. Now come on," he said, holding out his arm, "take my hand. I'm going to make a portal back to Aelwyd."

"You're going to make a portal just so we can go a quarter mile?!"

Just then, a sound thundered out in the distance. The jotun army had taken up a chant: they were preparing to launch an attack.

Loki gestured to the injured pair. "You want to walk all the way back?"

Darcy bit her lip. "Point taken." She took Loki's hand and reached out to Sif. "Grab on," she said.

Sif complied.

In a flash of multicolored light, the four of them were gone.

* * *

><p>Relygyr rode around the walls of Aelwyd, his dull grey armor glinting slightly as he sat tall in his saddle. "Archers!" he bellowed. Several rows of warriors with bows appeared atop the city walls, bows at the ready. "Infantry! Cavalry! All men of war: to arms!"<p>

The front gates of the city opened, and a motley flood of warriors poured out. Men and women of all sizes, clad in everything from helmets to full suits of armor, strode out to meet their king. About a third of them were on horseback, the others were on foot; but they all went forward proudly with weapons held high. At the front of the army, a small, unarmed group stood apart: Puck, Coyote, and Tony Stark.

Relygyr raised his eyebrows at them. "You are the ones who will help me command this army?"

"We'll do more than that," Stark said. "We'll fight alongside them."

"Really? And how do you intend to do that without weapons?"

Stark laughed. Relygyr stared at him, obviously not amused. Stark immediately stopped laughing. He coughed slightly.

On cue, Puck and Coyote sprang into action. Puck opened his coat, revealing rows of pockets filled to the brim with assorted plants and potions. When he re-crossed his arms, his hands had begun to shimmer faintly. Coyote arched his back, thick, tawny fur spreading all over his body. His face elongated and his legs shifted, until he was nearly unrecognizable: half-man, half-beast. Stark retrieved a small knapsack slung across his back. Placing it at his feet, he gave the contents of the bag a slight, metallic-sounding kick. Immediately, the bag split open, revealing a writhing mass of burgundy-and-gold parts which rose and shifted until—finally—Tony's entire body was covered with armor except for his face.

"Still think we don't have weapons?"

Relygyr shook his head with a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh. "Prepare for battle."

Stark turned to face the others. "Tricksters—!" he began with a shout. He reached up to pull the mask down over his face. The parts clicked into place. His eyes glowed.

"—assemble."

A cheer went up over the entire crowd.

* * *

><p>Rogers opened his eyes blearily. He noted, with some confusion, that there was a ceiling. It was with some relief that he also noted the ceiling was not like the one he had awoken to last time, but rather a rough patchwork of cobblestones.<p>

_Must've passed out at some point after my arm…_

His arm. He sat bolt upright in his bed, looking immediately below his shoulder. _No. No, no, no, not like they did with Jones. Not amputation. No, no…_

His arm was still there.

With a sigh of relief, he let his shoulders relax and he slouched.

A small, feminine cough alerted him to someone else's presence. He turned to look at the noise.

It was Sif, standing alongside his bed.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello." She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"No," he stammered hurriedly. "No, it's fine."

Sif smiled and crossed her arms.

Rogers cleared his throat awkwardly. "Do…do you want to sit down?"

"I might as well," she said. She sat down on the edge of his bed, flinching as her weight rested briefly on her bandaged arm.

"How's it healing?" Rogers asked. He gestured. "Your arm, I mean."

"Well enough," she replied. "The healer said there might be some scarring, even though I am an Aesir." She paused. "How do you fare?"

"Same. I don't normally take this long to heal from injuries, but this one…this one was pretty deep. I guess I'm pretty lucky it was my arm that got hit." He fell silent. "Thank you," he said.

Sif frowned. "For what?"

"For trying to protect me," he said. "If you hadn't tried to push me and Darcy out of the way…." He trailed off, not needing to finish his sentence.

"Oh." Sif laughed quietly. "You don't need to thank me," she said. "The only reason you were even in harm's way is because you were trying to push me and Darcy out of the way yourself. I should be thanking you."

Rogers stared at his hands. "Don't mention it."

Sif's frown returned. "I take it protecting other people isn't normal where you come from."

"Well, protecting people is okay," Rogers said. "Loads of people will do that, if you give them a chance. It's just protecting people at your own risk that's weird." At Sif's affronted look, he added quickly: "Weird in a good way. 'Weird' is…weird is good." He shook his head. "I knew one woman who was like that. No one ever expected her to fight. They always put her in positions where she told people what to do or made strategies or something. Women weren't allowed to fight. People said they weren't strong enough. They said women couldn't fight as well as men. But when everyone else was cowering in fear, when everyone else in the room was running scared, trying to protect their own lives, she fired back. She pulled out her gun and tried to protect everyone else, even though that made her a target." He smiled wistfully. "I guess you could say she was 'weird.'"

"She sounds like quite a woman."

"She was."

Steve looked down at his hands again.

Sif sighed. "I should leave you to get some rest." She stood up to go.

Steve looked up at her. "Sif…"

She stopped, and turned to him expectantly.

He hesitated. "I think you're pretty weird too."

Sif stared at him. She didn't say anything. She just blinked.

Steve made a face. "That came out badly."

"You seem very uncomfortable speaking to women," Sif commented mildly.

"It's a work in progress."

"No kidding." But she said it with a smile. With that, Sif left, her dark hair swishing behind her with every step.

* * *

><p>The battle was going poorly, and there seemed to be no end in sight. As the days of intermittent combat and respite went on, Stark, Puck, Coyote, and dozens of the Vanir became injured. Dozens more died.<p>

The heart of Aelwyd had taken on a somber tone. Where meals had once been punctuated by laughter and friendly chatter, there was now serious discussion or else merely silence.

When Loki and Darcy entered the dining hall for supper one evening, just over a week into the fighting, it proved to be one of the silent meals. Injured soldiers, taking their turn eating in the midst of a relatively dull battle-turned-siege, ate bowls of watery stew without much enthusiasm. Relygyr sat at the head table, eating silently as he pored over a pile of maps and diagrams, planning his next move in the stalemated battle.

Suddenly, a noise went up from outside. People began shouting in earnest, some sounding panicked and others eager. In the distance, the shouts of the jotun could be heard.

Above the din, the blast of a horn rang out.

Relygyr sprang into action. He turned to his advisors.

"What is that?" he demanded. "Who ordered the Horn of Nyklot to be blown?"

The advisors had no answers, instead babbling something about miscommunications and renegade soldiers.

The front doors opened, and a soldier with a golden-brown cloak staggered in.

Relygyr pushed through his advisors and approached the newcomer. "You, soldier: what's going on out there?"

"I-it's Ealyse, sir," the soldier said. "She's entered the fray."


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: To answer a question asked by several readers: yes, Jane is still in labor. Yes, I am aware that a week is an abnormally long time for childbirth. All will be explained. (The end of this story is in sight!)**

**Music: "Imagine the Fire" by Hans Zimmer throughout the battle sequences. "Born in Darkness" by Hans Zimmer, in the aftermath of the battle and during the birth. **

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

The sound of a horn rang out over the army's campsite, the only noise capable of rising above the increasing din.

Fury burst out of the generals' tent.

"Róttækir," he shouted, struggling to make himself heard over the pandemonium, "what the hell is going on out here?"

"I don't know, sir!" Róttækir yelled back. "One minute everything was calm—"

Fury ignored him. Impatiently, he yanked a spyglass out of his trench coat and peered across the battlefield. There: he saw the source of the noise. A young woman raced across the field on horseback, her silver armor glinting in the dwindling sunlight.

The shouts of the jotun army continued to rise.

"It's her! She's the one!"

"The girl in the prophecy! She's here!"

Fury lowered the spyglass and closed it, scowling.

* * *

><p>"Bring her back!" Relygyr shouted. He pounded his fist on the table, causing all of his councilors to jump. "I want every able man out there on that field, and I want my daughter brought back here immediately before she gets herself killed!"<p>

"Yes, my lord!"

"Right away, sir!"

In a flurry of bowls and spoons clattering on the table and benches sliding out on the stone floor, every soldier in the room stood up and hurried to the door, most of them still grabbing swords and spears as they left.

Loki and Darcy rose from their table to help Relygyr. Darcy was just about to ask what they could do when another noise joined the cacophony. Relygyr, Loki, and Darcy all turned to look as a healer, his robes in disarray, staggered down a staircase into the hall.

"My lord," he panted, "the child—"

"Jane's child?" Darcy interjected.

The healer nodded. "He's finally coming. Lady Jane is finally ready to deliver."

Loki and Darcy looked to Relygyr uncertainly.

He nodded, a serious expression settling over his face. "Go. Help her," he said. "That child is the reason we're in this war."

Scarcely pausing to nod, the two of them followed the healer upstairs to the infirmary as Relygyr took up his helmet from a table.

"Men, to arms!"

* * *

><p>Ealyse dismounted her horse gracefully, striding forward the instant her feet touched the ground. She drew her sword without hesitation and held it aloft, twirling it threateningly before the jotun army that stared back at her. A few squat, poorly armed soldiers in the front ranks stumbled back as she swung her sword about, the tip of her blade threatening to slice anything that dared to enter its path.<p>

She laughed at the cowering infantry. "Come on," she jeered, "show some backbone. Let some courage light up your pestilent faces."

The jotun gawked back at her in stony silence.

She scowled. "Come now!" she shouted. "Have not one of you the heart to take me on? Are all of you such sniveling little children that you cannot fight a simple girl?!"

Again, they did not reply.

Ealyse's lip curled into a sneer. With a cry of fury she swung her arm about in a semi-circle, her blade cutting a neat gash in the stomach of the nearest foot soldier.

The army snapped. All at once, half a dozen soldiers sprang into action, barreling towards Ealyse with clubs and broadswords. Without so much as batting an eyelash, she dispatched her attackers, felling them as if they were nothing more than stalks of wheat: a cut to the throat, a slash across the abdomen, an intricate dance between the sword and her fingertips that somehow ended with all of the assailants dead.

Upon seeing their comrades slain, the rest of the jotun army took several steps back. All eyes were on the girl of prophecy and the sword she carried.

* * *

><p>Even without the help of the healer, Loki and Darcy would have found Jane almost immediately: the sounds of her screams echoed throughout the halls, her pained wails growing louder with every step.<p>

"Any idea why it took so long?" Darcy asked the healer after a particularly hair-raising scream.

"I can't say for certain," the healer said, his eyes flitting anxiously in the direction of the infirmary, "but I think it would be safe to bet that the infant has inherited his father's strength. The midwife believes that the child has been _resisting _the labor process, literally clinging to the surrounding tissue as some sort of instinctive defense mechanism."

"The child thinks the contractions are a threat, so he's fighting back."

The healer nodded. "Precisely."

Loki shook his head. "Incredible."

The moment they reached the infirmary, Darcy threw the door open with an unceremonious slam. Her gaze flew to Jane—or at least, where Jane would have been visible if she weren't concealed by healers, midwives, and the enormous wall of armor-clad muscle that constituted Thor.

Darcy fought to push through some of the healers. "Excuse me," she squeaked. "Fellow pregnant lady and friend, coming through."

"Pardon me," Loki said, wincing apologetically as Darcy stepped on some of the healers' toes. "Very sorry."

Darcy paid no attention to the disgruntled healers. When she finally reached the bed where Jane lay, she gasped, taken aback. Jane looked worse than Darcy had ever seen her: red-faced with chapped, papery lips; her forehead shining with sweat. Out of nowhere, her glazed brown eyes flashed with recognition.

"Darcy—" She gasped for air like a fish out of water, trying and failing to sit up in greeting.

"Shh," Darcy said, gently pushing Jane back onto the bed. "Yes, it's me, Jane. It's Darcy. You're going to be alright. Everyone is here. We're all here for you. Just keep—"

Darcy's words were cut off as Jane cried out in pain, her initial scream splintering into sobs. Thor gripped his wife's hand, his lower lip shaking. Here was an enemy that no amount of brute force could conquer: the pain of a loved one.

Loki cleared his throat. "Jane, I want you to take deep breaths," he said calmly. "Can you do that for me?"

She shuddered as another wave of tears poured down her face. After a pause, she nodded.

"Good," Loki said. "Just take it slow. Breathe."

Darcy could have sworn that, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki make a strange motion with his fingertips; for the briefest second, it even appeared that Jane's eyes flashed faintly blue. But by the time she had begun to process what she had witnessed, the moment was gone. She didn't say anything.

"Now push."

* * *

><p>Fury stormed through the soldiers' ranks, fuming.<p>

"I don't care what kind of prophecy you've heard," he said, "this army is not going to back down over one soldier."

Balder smirked.

Róttækir gaped at Fury in open-mouthed horror. "Sir!"

"No 'sirs,'" Fury snapped. "I'm ordering you to attack. Now do it."

"She's practically a child," Róttækir protested. "We can't kill her."

One of the jotun soldiers piped up. "You heard the prophecy. If she dies, our army's going to fall apart!" A chorus of voices shouted out in agreement.

"I'm not asking you to kill her!" Fury bellowed over the chaos. Slowly, the dissenters fell silent. "I do not want to kill her," he repeated. "But if she's attacking our army, I sure as hell want you to defend yourselves—with _nonlethal force_." At that, he gave Balder a pointed look.

Balder's face darkened. "You're asking us to use nonlethal force in battle." He stared out at all of the jotun soldiers looking on, his eyes searching for support. "General Fury, this is war. To Hel with the prophecy. I don't care how old she is. She picked the fight. I'm here to finish it."

And with that, he stormed across the field, parting his way through the crowd.

"Balder!" Fury yelled. "Get your ass back here right now."

Balder ignored the orders. He had nearly reached the front of the army; Ealyse, busy fighting a handful of overconfident jotun, took no notice. Balder drew his arm back, the palm of his hand glowing orange.

"BALDER!"

Another man shouted from the other side of the field. "EALYSE!"

Instinctively, the girl turned to look at the source of the noise. Her face had barely begun to light up at the sound of her father's voice when the spell hit her. She gasped, the wind knocked out of her by Balder's spell. Her eyes glazing over, she fell to the ground.

* * *

><p>"Ahh-AHH!"<p>

"Shhh."

"Breathe. Just breathe."

Jane took a shuddering breath, inhaling through her nose and exhaling with an audible puff. Suddenly, her face screwed up.

"AHHHHHH!"

"Come on, Jane," Darcy said. "Hang in there!"

"Make it stop!" Jane pleaded.

"Almost there, Jane," Thor said, his voice thick. "You're almost done."

"Push!"

Jane pressed her head back against the pillows, tears streaming down her face, letting out one final wail of pain.

At that moment, her voice was joined by a second, even shriller sound of protest: a baby's cry.

* * *

><p>Relygyr raced across the field, his ears filled with a sound like rushing water. He staggered as he neared Ealyse, his grief pressing upon his shoulders like a weight. He fell to his knees, weeping.<p>

"Ealyse…"

With a great effort, she opened her eyes, her eyelids drooping.

"Father," she said weakly.

"Yes," he said, his voice breaking. "It's me, Ealyse. It's me." His teeth chattered. "Y-you're going to be alright. You're going to make it. You're going to live." He smiled. "Right?"

Ealyse stared at him sadly. "Let go," she whispered.

Relygyr closed his eyes, unable to stop the tears from coming now.

"Father…"

Relygyr forced his eyes to open, to make eye contact with his daughter.

Ealyse smiled. For the briefest instant, her eyes lit up. "I've won," she said. "The prophecy came true. When I die, the jotun army will die with me." Her eyelids began to slide shut. "I won, Father. I won."

"Ealyse," he burst out, putting a hand on her cheek to turn her face towards him.

Her eyes remained closed.

"EALYSE!"

She went limp.

* * *

><p>The midwives huddled around Jane. One of them, a middle-aged woman, cradled the baby as Jane gave the final push.<p>

"Gah." Jane sighed with relief and fell back against the pillows as the baby finally came out and slipped safely into waiting arms.

The midwife took a rag and wiped the blood off the baby's skin. The baby let out another wail. All of a sudden, she froze.

Thor rose from his wife's bedside and approached the midwife. "May I?"

The midwife stared at him, her eyes wide. "It's a girl."


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: "Odin Confesses" by Patrick Doyle—really, Loki's Theme. Super-short chapter, but I had to get it out here.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

The room went silent. No one dared to make a noise, not even Jane, who took her newborn daughter into her arms without saying a word.

"What?" Loki said in a very small voice.

"Jane's child—" The midwife stammered. "Their child—it's a girl."

Loki shook his head. "No," he said. "No, this can't be right."

"A girl…" said Thor, dumbfounded.

Loki shook his head. "She can't be. This can't be right." He strode across the room and reached towards Jane.

"Loki!"

He ignored Darcy's warning. He seized the child from Jane's arms, unwrapping the blanket to see the baby with his own eyes.

A girl.

Loki didn't resist as the midwife took the now-crying baby from his arms. His eyes had glazed over, staring into space as he thought.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Darcy said hesitantly. "The Norns were wrong. The prophecy failed."

"Impossible," said Thor.

"Why?" Darcy crossed her arms. "It's not the first time a prophecy hasn't come true."

"That was different," said Loki distantly, his eyes still fixed on some point in space that only he could see. "The Norns see things as they will be assuming everything continues along a certain path. I didn't bring about Ragnarok because I made a choice. I chose you and I chose Asgard. The Norns should have seen the sex of the child; that's not something that Jane could choose."

Darcy threw her hands up. "Okay, maybe the prophecy wasn't referring to this baby. Maybe Jane and Thor were supposed to have a second kid, but now that they know about the prophecy they won't."

"The Norns wouldn't make a prophecy like that," Thor said, "They only make prophecies—" He stopped.

At the same moment, Loki suddenly froze and turned pale. "—about events already set in motion," he finished. His face contorted in horror. "_No_."

"Loki, what's the matter?"

He turned to look at her, his face twisted. "The book," he said quietly. "The one we fought over."

Darcy stared back at him in complete bewilderment. And then, slowly, it dawned on her. "Jotun incubation. And fertilization. I didn't become pregnant a few weeks ago; I've been pregnant as long as Jane has. Since just before the prophecy was announced." Her eyes widened even further. "And if what the Norns care about is when the event is set in _motion_, the conception, and jotun pregnancies last longer than Asgardian ones…then for their purposes—"

"I am older than Thor," Loki finished dully.

Darcy's face crumpled. "But I can't be…" She struggled for words, her voice breaking. "It can't be…you're not Odin's son by blood! The prophecy said—"

"Not 'son by blood.'" Loki pulled his shirt up to reveal the faint, jagged scar on his lower back."'Odin's blood.'" He lowered his shirt, but kept his gaze on the ground.

Jane looked at the two of them. "What book? What are you two talking about? What does any of this mean?"

"The prophecy was never about your child," Loki said. "It was about mine." He raised his eyes to look at Darcy. "My son."


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

Róttækir let out his breath slowly, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before his eyes. He dared not say anything, out of respect for the dead girl and the poor father sobbing over her.

Fury was not so serene.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Balder turned around slowly, his pale eyes empty and humorless.

"Yes, you!" Fury approached Balder until they were nearly nose to nose. "What part of 'non-lethal force' do you not understand?! I ordered you—"

"Your orders," Balder sneered, grabbing Fury by the collar, "are no longer relevant. You are a weak general. My patience for your incompetence has run out." He let out an almost inaudible chuckle. "Farewell, Nick Fury."

With a roar, he threw the director. A flurry of dust and breaking rock showered out from a newly-formed crater in the ground. Balder panted. He bared his teeth triumphantly, oblivious to the rising murmurs of the jotun army surrounding him.

Róttækir interrupted his gloating. "What have you done?!"

Balder's eyes gleamed. "I did what any general with half his wits about him would do," he snarled. "Fury was in my way. I eliminated him." He clasped his hands behind his back and his voice settled back into an eerie calm. "Consider this your warning, jotun," he said as he walked away. "Follow my orders, or you can join your precious general in the dust."

"No."

Balder stiffened. "What did you say to me?"

"I said," Róttækir repeated, enunciating his words precisely, "_no_."

Balder laughed. "Very well." His hands began to glow. "Join the human."

In the split second it took Balder to draw his arm back and hurl the curse at his foe, Róttækir put up his hand and barked out something in a strange tongue.

"_Skorrnachth._"

The curse struck Róttækir's palm in a flash of blinding white light. Before Balder had time to flinch, his spell rebounded and pounded him in the chest.

He staggered back. "Are you a fool, jotun?" he growled. He feigned his usual smirk; it came out a strained grimace. "Or are you merely suicidal?"

"It is you who are the fool if you think that you can openly betray your betters and get away with it." Róttækir's expression hardened. "My men may be uncivilized to your eyes," he continued coolly, "but they are not without honor. And in the world I come from, there is no greater dishonor than to slay one to whom your allegiance should lie. I joined this fight to protect my people." His lip curled. "Now I see that it is not the human child that threatens us," he said, "it is you."

"Do you have any idea what you're up against?" Balder panted, struggling to straighten up.

"I fight against evil," Róttækir said evenly. "That is all I need to know."

"Suppose half of the jotun join you," continued Balder. "Do you really think that it will be enough to stand against the rest of us? Do you really think that you stand a chance against the power that I possess?"

"My chances are irrelevant so long as I do what is right." He turned to his men. "Get General Fury off the ground. See that he receives a healer's attention. The rest of you, with me."

"Sir!"

"Where are we going, sir?"

Róttækir surveyed his men, taking his helmet under his arm. "We join our allies at Aelwyd," he declared in a loud voice. "At dawn, we make our stand."

Balder grinned wickedly, but Róttækir took no notice. Surrounded by a mob of cheering jotun, he put on his helmet and began to cross the battlefield, making his way to Aelwyd.

* * *

><p>Relygyr continued to gasp out choking, rasping sobs though he had nothing left with which to cry. The pain would come in waves. Every so often, the pain would seem to subside, and he was able to sit up again. But then he saw Ealyse's lifeless body, sprawled at an unnatural angle, and the wracking fits of grief overcame him.<p>

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "My lord…"

"No!"

"Sir…"

"No! I can't leave her here!"

Rogers stepped forward from the throng of soldiers gathered behind their king. "Sir, the jotun army is on the move and approaching fast. We can take care of the body. You need to get out of here."

"Hold up there, Cap." Stark pushed a button to peel back his facemask. "I don't think we need to worry about these guys."

Rogers stared at the approaching army curiously. "It's strange that they're only bringing half the army," he admitted. "And they're being led by one of the friendlier generals." His brow furrowed. "But why don't they have Balder?" he muttered.

He expected a snarky quip in reply, but was met with silence. He turned to look at Stark…or rather, where Stark had been.

"Oh brother."

* * *

><p>Stark lowered himself slowly, dust flying everywhere as his rockets drew nearer to the ground.<p>

Róttækir nodded his approval as Stark approached. "That's quite a machine."

"I try," Stark said dryly. "Now let's cut to the chase. Why are you bringing half your army over here like you're coming over for afternoon tea, why isn't General Homicide with you—and where did you get that armor? I'm loving the whole lion-skin-fur thing you have going on, might copy it on the next round of my suit." He rolled his eyes. "Mostly, you know, because it would really piss off Pepper, and I think it's funny when she gets mad at me. But…"

Róttækir smiled patiently. "I'm here to assist you. I lend your cause my support and, more importantly, my army."

"Wait, so you're just going to drop everything and help us? And your army is cool with this?"

Róttækir frowned. "I don't know if you've met General Balder."

_Fair point. _Stark jerked his head towards Aelwyd. "Welcome to the club. Come on."

* * *

><p>The mood inside Aelwyd had changed dramatically. As if a switch had been pulled, everyone suddenly bustled about with renewed hope and energy.<p>

"The jotun army is broken!"

"The prophecy came true! The maiden saved us!"

"They've divided in two!"

"We're saved!"

One of the soldiers jumped up on a table.

"Three cheers for Ealyse!" he bellowed, raising a flagon. "Hip hip!"

"HUZZAH!"

"Hip hip!"

"HUZZAH!"

"Hip—"

An uncanny wail pierced the air.

The soldier on the table froze. "What was that noise?"

The wail repeated itself. Hollow and haunting, it rang out. It was a shrill, high noise like a child or an old soprano singing off in the distance.

Everyone in the room went silent, listening to the noise. As it went on, the sound changed. The wailing note was joined by another, then another. Slowly, a dark, rumbling sound rose up from underneath the wail.

The soldier leapt off the table and ran to the nearest sentry tower. He looked out upon the battlefield…and paled.

"Valhalla save us all," he muttered.

Thor came to the door of the tower. "What's happening?"

The soldier pointed outside, his finger shaking. "Re—reinforcements, sir. It's the army of the dead. They've come for us. That's why they escaped. They've come here."

Thor squinted at the horizon. There, at the head of the ghostly army, he could see two figures ahead of the rest.

One was Balder, his mouth quirked in a triumphant smirk.

The other was a woman with fair skin and dark, shining hair that rippled in the breeze.

Titania.

Thor turned to the soldier. "Summon everyone."

"Yes, sir."

"Sentry!"

The man stopped.

Thor swallowed heavily. "Tell them to prepare for the worst."


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: It is with great pride and a slightly heavy heart that I present for you the penultimate chapter of the Thrice Blood trilogy. The final chapter will be posted within the week.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

Relygyr joined Thor on the parapet, bracing himself against the wall as he stared out over the seemingly endless sea of undead that stretched across the field.

Róttækir followed momentarily, his usually confident stride dampened by uncertainty.

"Orders, sir?"

Slowly, almost painfully, Relygyr pulled his shoulders back and stood up straight: a stony façade of the king he once was.

"My orders have not changed, Róttækir." His jaw set. "We fight." He stormed down the staircase, his cloak billowing.

Thor thundered down the steps on Relygyr's heels. "Relygyr," Thor burst out, "we face an army of the dead. No ordinary army will suffice."

"Then we will fight them with an extraordinary one," he said flatly.

Thor and Róttækir exchanged flabbergasted looks as Relygyr made his way into the great hall to join the panicked assembly that waited.

The stone walls rang with clamoring voices.

"It's an army of the dead! The ghosts of all wars past come to haunt us!"

"Lady Hel has unleashed her worst upon us!"

"No army could stand against this army of the damned!"

Thor pulled Relygyr aside forcefully. "Listen to me," he said. "This is not merely an army you face. This is an army of the damned. All the most violent, dishonorable, power-hungry kings and warriors of the past have assembled to come against you. Victory is impossible."

"Relygyr, he's right," Róttækir added. "These aren't normal soldiers. Even if you had twice as many men as you do now, it wouldn't be enough."

"I don't care. Today we fight."

Thor pounded his fist against the wall. "Damn it, Relygyr," he growled, "I beg you to listen to us, for your own and your peoples' sake."

"No," Relygyr shouted back. "You listen to me." He glared at the entire room. "ALL OF YOU!"

A hush fell over the room.

Relygyr stalked forward, shaking. "Look at yourselves," he said, "cowering like children afraid of the dark. You _are _children afraid of the dark. You're afraid to die!" He stared at the men gathered around. His eyes blazed. "You are cowards. Why are you afraid now?!" he demanded. "You, who have risked death every time you go into battle! Why is this battle any different?" He clenched his fists. "No, I shouldn't say that. This battle _is _different. This is a hopeless battle. Victory is impossible."

A wave of murmurs flitted through the room.

"BUT WILL THAT STOP US?!"

Silence fell.

"Will you stop, just because you cannot win? Do you think that if you do not fight you will live? Do you honestly think—" His voice shook. "Do you think," he continued, "that Balder, a vicious coward who killed a child—_my_ child—when she least expected it, will have mercy on you because you do not fight? He will slaughter all of you! Whether you fight or not, we are all going to die." He shuddered. "So ask yourselves: how do you want to die? How do you want to be remembered? As a coward, who shrank into a corner when they saw the darkness coming? Or as a hero who went out fighting to their last, willing to sacrifice their life in pursuit of some slim hope that another might live?" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I lost my child today," he said. "Perhaps, if we fight hard enough, we can spare another parent that pain."

Nobody said a word.

At last, Thor stood up on a table and held his hammer overhead. "For Ealyse!"

A few seconds passed. And then, a solitary voice in the crowd took up the cry, then another, and then another, until the entire room was filled with soldiers' shouting.

"FOR EALYSE!"

Slowly, the noise began to die down as—one by one—the crowd of soldiers moved aside to allow a newcomer to enter the room. The newcomer surveyed the room with his one eye.

Relygyr finally saw him. "Fury," he said, "I see you have recovered."

"Yes, I have."

Nervousness flashed across the king's face. "I have no intent of forcing your alliance. If you wish to rejoin Balder and Titania, I will not stop you. Do you intend to cross the battlefield and join their company?"

"I intend," said Fury, "to kick some ass."

The room broke out in battle cries.

Relygyr smiled. "Very well. Then let us fight."

And with a parting 'hurrah,' the soldiers pushed open the front doors and marched across the battlefield to meet their fate.

Titania and Balder did not look pleased to see the approaching army.

Relygyr and Fury matched their opponents' scowls, and stepped forward to speak—commander to commander.

"I knew you were a fool, Fury," Balder jeered, "but choosing the wrong side?" He clucked his tongue in mock disappointment.

"Watch who you're calling a fool, fool," he snapped. "You're the stupid one if you think I don't see through your act. I signed on to save the world from an apocalypse child. Now I've realized this whole war was really about some crazy vendetta you and Fairy-Wings over here have against Loki."

"Nothing crazy about it." Titania tilted her head. "I told Loki I would be coming. I warned him that if I ever had any descendants, I would be there to see them." She grinned toothily. "And here we are, waiting for the birth of Darcy's child."

Balder smirked. "Oh dear. You all seem to be standing in our way." He bowed with a sarcastic flourish. "Now would you all kindly step aside?"

"Over your dead body." His grief turned all at once to rage. Relygyr lunged forward, raising his sword over his head.

In the split second before Relygyr's sword met his foe's lowered neck, Balder's arm darted forward. Relygyr let out a cry of pain, clutching his stomach where Balder's sword protruded from it. Gasping, he crumpled to the ground.

"Ealyse's death is avenged." He wheezed, and then became motionless, his dead body still in victory next to the severed head of his daughter's killer.

Once her shock had worn off, Titania looked up from the ground to stare coldly at the men opposite her.

"LEGION!" she bellowed to her own army. "ATTACK!"

Without hesitation, the two armies surged towards each other, and in a clash of fury and steel, they collided.

* * *

><p>Darcy closed her eyes. Though sweat and tears streamed down her cheeks with the effort of pushing, she didn't make a sound.<p>

"I'm sorry," Loki whispered, brushing away the hair that clung to her face. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>Sword and shield held high, Róttækir and Rogers led the charge.<p>

* * *

><p>Darcy answered in a high, frail voice. Loki could scarcely understand her, her teeth gritted against the pain. "Not…your…fault…We…have…to…know…" She let out a gasp. Loki instinctively pressed Darcy's hand in between both of his, squeezing tightly, his brow creased in worry. Darcy took a shaky breath, then licked her lips to continue speaking. "We have to know for sure, before it's too late."<p>

* * *

><p>Stark, Puck, and Coyote all charged towards Titania, bellowing madly.<p>

* * *

><p>The echoes of clattering steel carried in through the window. Loki looked up in alarm.<p>

Darcy's face crumpled. "Oh no! They're fighting…"

Loki held her hand to his chest. "It's alright," he said, "it's alright. Just keep pushing."

* * *

><p>Fury stood perfectly still, firing bullets into the head of any undead soldier that dared to draw near.<p>

* * *

><p>"But what if it's a girl?" Darcy panted. "What if it's not the child and they're fi—" Her voice cracked and for the first time she sobbed aloud.<p>

"It doesn't matter," Loki assured her, now holding her shoulder comfortingly as her back arched into the bed. "If there's a mistake, we'll tell them, and the fighting will stop."

* * *

><p>Sif and Rogers fought back to back, singlehandedly felling dozens of undead soldiers…but the legion continued to press in on them.<p>

"There's too many of them," Sif panted. "We're never going to make it."

"There's no one I'd rather fall down fighting beside."

Wordlessly, the two twined their fingers together and each continued fighting with one hand.

* * *

><p>Darcy's face contorted. Loki could feel her shoulders tensing with the effort of muffling a howl. Instead, she pushed and emitted a small whimper. At last, her cry was joined by the cry of another.<p>

She opened her eyes and gave a quiet, watery laugh as she slouched forward, shaking as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Can you see? Can you see our baby?"

Loki gingerly lifted the child with a towel. As he wiped the blood away, he saw the child's skin turning from blue to pink. He removed the towel, revealing the lower half of a wriggling baby.

"I can see the baby." Despite his best effort, he began to cry. "I can see _him_."

Darcy gasped quietly. "Oh no…"

As if he hand understood his mother's words, the baby started to cry in earnest, flailing his arms until he knocked the towel away, giving Loki the first glimpse of his son's face.

He laughed softly.

"What? What is it?"

Loki shook his head, amazed that he could be so happy over something so small. He felt like a thousand firecrackers were going off in his chest. "Green eyes." He nearly choked on the lump in his throat. "He has my eyes," he said. "Just like you wanted him to."

But as he looked closer, he realized that wasn't quite true. He did have _green_ eyes—uncommon for a baby—but on the right side he could see a stripe of gold, like a scar through the iris. A scar, the only remnant of a spell that would have killed an ordinary child, a fiery insignia of the child destined to die that so stubbornly clung to life.

He handed the baby to Darcy. She ran her fingers through the baby's thin layer of dark brown curls.

"He's beautiful," she murmured. Biting her lip, she looked up at her husband with watering eyes. "Loki, what are we going to do?" she cried.

Suddenly, Loki was struck with an idea. He froze.

"Loki?"

"No. No, no, no."

"Loki, what is it?!"

"I can't do it," he said. His knees gave out and he ran his hands through his hair. "It's too much. I can't."

"Loki, if you have an idea that can save our child, we have to try."

"No!" Loki stood up, tears twisting his face. "I have cut and slipped out of every knot I've ever encountered," he said, "but this is one knot that I cannot undo. The price is too high."

"Loki," Darcy pleaded thickly, "I am begging you. You have to save our son."

"No, I can't."

"Please!"

"I can't!"

Darcy snapped, her voice shuddering with desperation. "_PLEASE!" _The baby started crying again. Darcy struggled to speak through the grief that distorted her voice. "I can't let our son die," she breathed.

Loki swallowed heavily. After a long pause, he nodded.


	38. Chapter 38 & Epilogue

"**Rise" by Hans Zimmer.**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

"Stop!"

Loki's voice echoed across the field, but the battling warriors took no notice. It was only after he stepped into the fray that the fighting was quelled, spreading out in a wave from where Loki and Darcy walked. When they saw the couple, the warriors knew to stop. They knew why they fought. They knew who Loki and Darcy were. And they knew the meaning of the cloth-covered bundle in Darcy's arms.

In the center of the battle, Titania and the tricksters were the last to stop fighting. The others, when they realized what had happened hurried over.

"Is that—" Sif began.

"It is done," Loki said harshly. He gritted his teeth and met Titania's eyes without wavering. "The prophecy is fulfilled." Beside him, Darcy's eyes were dry, her tears replaced with a hollow, stony ache that froze her face like a statue's.

Titania's eyes narrowed. "I'll have no trickery from you, Laufeyson."

"Odinson!" Loki roared. He clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. "I am no son of Laufey," he said in a raw voice. "You heard the prophecy's words. Odin's son." He laughed bitterly. "I finally got what I always wanted. Recognition as Odin's son. Look where it has gotten me."

Titania stood her ground pitilessly. "Let me see." She raised her chin in the air. "If the child truly is dead, let us see."

Loki pulled away the sheet. Darcy finally reacted, flinching so she wouldn't have to look at her son's face, dead. Titania peered into Darcy's arms. After studying the body for a long time, she nodded. Loki's hands trembled as he replaced the sheet.

Thor sniffed audibly. Rogers did not cry, but his eyes were rimmed with red. Sif grabbed his hand for comfort.

Titania cleared her throat. "Well then," she sighed. "It would appear that my business here is done. I will take my army and return them to their rightful home."

"I doubt they'll be happy about it," Fury pointed out.

"That is a problem you need not worry yourselves with. I will handle it." She lowered her head in a semi-bow to those surrounding her. "I take my leave."

Nobody returned the gesture.

Titania's lip curled. "Well, if you're all going to be—"

"Get out," Thor growled.

Titania looked affronted, but did not protest. With a wave of her fingers and a small sonic boom, she and her army vanished.

Róttækir drew near, clutching his side. "What happens now?"

Thor swallowed. "Now? We pick up the pieces." He turned to the others sorrowfully. "Come. We have dead to bury."

**EPILOGUE**

**Seven Years Later**

And pick up the pieces they did. The dead were buried. The injured healed.

Róttækir, having slain the General in battle, became king of the jotun. Some tribes protested. In time, however, he made progress towards uniting the people, and even those who did not accept his rule were treated justly under his rule.

Aelwyd, left heirless, fell to civil war. For six years, Vanaheim was divided by bloodshed. The war ended in stalemate. Weary of the seemingly endless slaughter, both sides agreed to split the kingdom—the South belonging to House Isilyth, the North to House Brenin.

The daughter of Thor and Jane was named Genevieve. She grew up to become a girl of impossible strength. By age seven, she could lift boulders that even Thor struggled to raise. When she did this, her father would laugh, tossing the giggling child into the air, her thick blond curls trailing behind her like a comet until Thor caught her.

And Loki would look on with a wistful smile before turning away sadly. He would walk alone across the newly-repaired Bifrost until he reached the observatory. Once there, he would look down on the stars, searching for something only he could see.

Or so he thought.

"I know why it is you come here."

Loki whirled around, his heart pounding.

Heimdall crossed the room, his footsteps slow and serious. "Hermes is a good father," he said.

* * *

><p><em>He opened the door of his mortal apartment, his merry green eyes widening in shock when he saw the basket on the doorstep.<em>

* * *

><p>"Will you tell them?" Loki asked in a clipped voice.<p>

* * *

><p><em>He stooped down, his hands brushing past the metal feathers of his winged sandals as he reached out to pick up the dark-haired child.<em>

* * *

><p>Heimdall paused solemnly. "It is my duty as gatekeeper to protect the Nine Realms from harm." He stared at Loki with his owlish amber eyes. "If the prophecy is to remain broken, no one else may know what I know. I will keep my silence."<p>

* * *

><p><em>He smiled at the baby's round, innocent face. He noticed a scrap of paper that had fallen into the basket. Taking care not to wake the sleeping boy, he picked up the piece of paper to read it.<em>

* * *

><p>Heimdall turned to leave.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please<strong>_**.**

_It was one word, but Hermes knew immediately what it meant. He crumpled the note in his hand. Shaking his head slightly, he took the baby inside and closed the door.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Loki called after him. "Heimdall!"<p>

The gatekeeper stopped.

A note of desperation crept into Loki's voice. "Can you see him?"

Heimdall smiled. "He is happy."

* * *

><p>A boy, his green eyes alive with energy, clambered to the top of the craggy rock, panting in satisfaction as he looked out over the valley beneath him. He was tired, and his wavy brown hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, but he had done it. He grinned.<p>

* * *

><p>Several moments after Heimdall had departed, Loki was joined by another visitor. He didn't look up as Darcy twined her fingers with his.<p>

"He's alive," she murmured. "He's alive, and that's what matters."

"Do you think he will ever know?"

Darcy considered him seriously.

Loki continued, turning to look at his wife in agitation. "Do you think he will be ashamed if he finds out the truth? Do you…do you think he'll be like me?"

* * *

><p>"Leif! Lifthrasir!"<p>

The smile fading from his face, the boy guiltily turned to look in the direction of his father's voice.

* * *

><p>"I think he will be like you." Darcy squeezed Loki's hand. "And that is nothing to be ashamed of."<p>

* * *

><p>"Come get your breakfast!"<p>

"Coming, father!" Leif shouted. He scampered down the rock he had climbed, the mischievous smile returning to his lips. He ruffled the fur on his dog's head. "Come on, Fenrir." He threw a stick in the direction of his house and began running.

The boy's feet pounded against the hardened ground, his breath rising in icy clouds as he raced home. It began to snow. Leif crinkled his nose against the snowflakes hitting his face.

If one had been looking at him from a distance, his skin might have appeared to flash blue for an instant. But then again, with the sunlight glinting as it broke over the icy horizon, perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

_The end. _


End file.
